To Overcome
by Thorsmaven
Summary: Lucius Malfoy finds himself at a crossroads a year after the war. He doesn't know who or what he is anymore, and unwanted attention from Harry Potter makes finding himself in this new world all the more difficult. SLASH! Harry Potter x Lucius Malfoy
1. Chapter 1

Title: To Overcome  
>Pairing: Harry Potter x Lucius Malfoy, mentions of Draco Malfoy x Blaise Zabini, and some mentions of Narcissa Malfoy x Lucius Malfoy<br>Rated: M for various sexual themes  
>Summary: Lucius Malfoy finds himself at a crossroads a year after the war. He doesn't know who or what he is anymore, and unwanted attention from Harry Potter makes finding himself all the more difficult.<br>Disc: Not my men  
>Notes: A good chunk of this story is already written. It's gigantic so I thought it'd be best to carve it up into chapters.<p>

(*) Chapter 1 (*)

"Father?"

Lucius looked up from his book at the figure of his son standing in the door way to his study. "Yes Draco?" There was some hesitation in his son, he saw from the way he shifted in his position to the way he tugged on his sleeves- it was as if he was eleven again, rather than eighteen. "Is there something the matter?"

"Well… yes. Father, you rarely go out anymore. Everyone keeps asking me where you've been, why you've hauled yourself up in the manor like a hermit."

He sat his book down as he looked up at his son from his position sitting at his desk. He saw that his son meant him no harm, his question was one of concern over his well being rather than one trying to prod an answer out of him. "I have no reason to go out, Draco. My reputation is beyond destroyed through prison and bad decisions, my closest friend is dead, my other associates are dead or in prison, and quite frankly I have no desire to explain myself or my actions to others. I will remain here. Like a hermit as you so kindly put it."

"But you need to get out! It's not healthy." He protested. "Please reconsider, even if it's only as a favor to me. You could take a class-"Draco bit his lip in anticipation. His father had been through so much in the past few years, jail, the dark lord, and now finally his own exile. He recalled the jokes leveled at him during his sixth year at Hogwarts about his father and what they did to attractive men in prison. They made him sick, and they weren't funny.

Lucius gave him a cross look. "What type of class would I take Draco, do tell. Knitting, mayhap? I could make you a sweater."

"You know father, you're impossible sometimes." Draco tossed down a scroll on to the desk. It rolled out over Lucius's book, advertising a wide variety of different courses being offered by the ministry. "At least pretend to look at it."

The older man sighed, looking down at the scroll and the wide variety of different subjects offered on advanced education. It was a garden variety of various topics, ranging from simply hobbies to college level lectures on topics not covered in depth by the wizarding schools. One however, did stick out in his mind. He made an interested noise, gathering the scroll in his hands. "Painting." He said out loud. "Maybe I'll take this painting class."

"In all seriousness, father?"

Lucius nodded. "Of course. I've painted before, some of them hang downstairs. They're just landscapes, but I did enjoy making them. There's something rather peaceful about it. Maybe I will try this one. Does that soothe your troubled thoughts, Draco?"

"It does!" Draco brightened instantly. Lucius was going to try and go out again, that was more than enough for him. "You'll have to let me know how it goes."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll get an earful."

(*)

Lucius felt a nervous lump form in his throat. He stared at the door to the studio, his hand trembling as he reached for the door knob. He jerked it back suddenly as his finger tips barely grazed the metal, acting like he was burned. He stepped back, frowning. If he turned back now, Draco would make sure he'd be marched right back into the studio. It was best to just do this on his own or risk never hearing the end of it. He swallowed hard, taking a step inside.

He was greeted by the sudden rush of smells, paints, varnishes, and other supplies. It was oddly welcoming in it's own way. He glanced around at the witches and wizards making up the body of the class. There were only a few of them, which was fine. Every one of them though was doing their hardest to show him that he wasn't welcome there. He swallowed taking an unoccupied easel by the door, noting his fellow classmates all moved one space away from him. He glanced longingly at the exit.

"Ah, welcome Mr. Malfoy. My name is Jackson Kline, artist and wizard. We've just begun. We were wondering if you were going to join us or not. We've been watching your feet pace outside of the door for the better part of ten minutes."

Lucius kept his jaw clenched painfully shut.

"Admittedly when I saw your name on the roster, I wasn't sure of what to think." Kline began as he leaned against his battered desk. "And I'm pretty sure you heard the uniform shift to the right everyone's done away from you."

He felt his cheeks burn, but played it off as nothing. He nodded, feeling worse than he did when he was a first year at Hogwarts, knowing well that this was the type of scrutiny he was trying to avoid by staying put in the manor. His grey eyes flitted over to the others in the class, wondering who they were and if he had any contact with them. He doubted it, if they were in his social circle they were either dead or in prison. His sights firmly set on his stocky, balding instructor again; he waited impatiently to hear what he could possibly say next.

"Then I remembered something important. To be a great artist, there's a level of personal trauma that's needed. Trauma, rage, frustration, anger, lust- dark feelings are better vehicles for art than positive ones because they are raw. Art should be raw. It should be powerful. When you look at it, there should be no appraisal of what is nice, it should draw you in because there's real meaning behind it. With two terms as a deatheater, one stay in a nefarious prison, and other dark deeds behind you, I want to see what you're capable of as an artist."

Lucius looked up at Kline, feeling the pressure already. So far, he was having a wonderfully miserable time. Apparently the instructor considered him to be a tortured painter and the rest of the class hated him already. Five minutes had passed and every possible negative outcome had already been reached. He wasn't sure if it could possibly get any worse.

"Your first assignment is a quick one. Paint how you feel. It doesn't have to contain any recognizable imagery. I want you to put your feelings on the canvas."

He blinked stupidly at the instructor, unsure of where to even begin. He had only painted landscapes before. How do you paint _feelings_ anyway? With a small sigh he began to create his pallet of colors to work with, fiddling idly around with his brush. If Draco was still getting an allowance, he would have revoked it. Though, he could always retroactively charge him for forcing him out here. An annoyance fee was a brilliant way to get back at him for his current position. "_Oh father, take a class. It'll be wonderful_." He muttered to himself, sitting in a room where everyone was still doing their damndest to shun him.

Lucius pushed the color around on his pallet, his fingers hesitating to do anything. It felt like ages before he lifted it to the canvas, creating a long thick line. Did _that_ constitute as a feeling? He snorted at the absurdity. His shoulders slumped in a defeated gesture, glancing to what his fellow classmates were doing- at least what he could see from his position. They chattered endlessly about this and that, how excited they were to be in a class with Jackson Kline, and what their emotions meant to them. It was all so inane. He shook his head, his eyes back on the canvas with his one painted line. As if anyone of them knew what it was like to feel, or what their feelings were doing to him.

Everything was stupid, this class was stupid, and his fellow students were stupid. Painting emotions was stupid. Why should he even bother to try? He picked up his brush again, stabbing, swiping, and slashing at the canvas until he had covered it in haphazard strokes of various dark colors. When he was completed, he gave it a flippant look. He painted how he was feeling, and the irony that it did reflect what he felt inside was not lost on him. Lucius sat back on the wooden stool, a smug look on his face. If he got thrown out of the class, Draco couldn't say a damned word about him not returning. He reached down for the leather bag containing the painting supplies he brought with him, grabbing his pallet knife. His nimble fingers unscrewed the handle from the metal part, and with a quick jab stabbed the canvas. He made a sizeable hole in it, using the tool to make a large gash from the middle down to near the frame.

The sudden sound caught people's attentions as they slowly started peering over in his direction. Kline walked over to him, his paint stained robes dragging on the floor as he went.

Lucius cleared his throat before speaking- making sure to drone the happiness at his potential departure from this class out of his voice. "Clearly I'm emotionally disturbed. Maybe even dangerous. I should probably just go for everyone's sake. You can throw me out, you won't hurt my feelings. I won't even ask for my money back! You can keep it- as a donation to the arts."

Kline looked at the canvas, with the deep cuts, and the pallet knife sticking out at the bottom for quite some time. "You are emotionally disturbed. But that's why you're in this class. Keep up the good work- it's not boring and I want to see what's inside of the soul of a man like yourself. You're a fine addition to this class." Kline left his side, and Lucius's mouth hung open for just a brief second. He quickly shut it as it was not proper, scowling inwardly.

It was at that point that the other students in the class drifted on over, crowding around Lucius and his easel. He heard them murmur "He's tortured inside, maybe it's remorse" "I bet that's his inner child, speaking to him- acting out in rage and suffering" and finally "simply brilliant". If there was room for Lucius to shove his head through his gouged out canvas, he would have. Had everyone gone mad? He painted streaks all over a canvas then destroyed it. He just shook his head slowly, going about cleaning his tools.

(*)

Draco waited on the steps for his father to come out of his class, checking the time on the clock in the center square every couple of seconds. Finally, he saw the familiar tall, elegant figure of his father flanked by a few other students in his class.

"And the way you slashed at the canvas? Was it an extension of your own grief?"

"Yes. Grief." Lucius said flatly. He looked around to the other students, annoyed with their sudden interest in him, when only moments before they hated him. "I am tortured inside." He said equally as flat as his previous comment.

"It must have been a relief to put that pain elsewhere, rather than letting it build up inside…"

"Like letting all the air out of a balloon." He muttered and saw Draco waiting for him. "Excuse me, there's my son. I need to go-"

"Does he know of your inner turmoil and suffering?"

"Oh, if he doesn't- he will be made aware of it _very_ soon." Lucius grumbled and pushed away from them. He grabbed Draco's arm, ushering them both rapidly down the stairs.

"Father! You have friends again!" Draco smiled at him. "Did they like your art? What did you paint? Tell me all about it!"

Lucius's upper lip twitched. "If you weren't 18, I would ground you." He grumbled, and aparated back to the manor with a loud pop. He heard Draco disapparate behind him. He kept up a swift pace, not really wishing to speak to Draco at the moment.

"It couldn't have been that bad!"

"Quite the contrary, I'm afraid. It was apocalyptic." Lucius quickened his pace, their movements down the long hallways of the manor magnified.

"Father, you're being dramatic."

"Sometimes the truth is dramatic!" He said rather shrilly as he turned around to look at Draco. "They think I'm some sort of 'tortured' artist who may or may not be 'emotionally disturbed'. For the first part of the class, they _hated_ me. But once Kline said my work was good? They all wanted to ask me questions about my 'insanity'."

"…What in Merlin's name did you paint?"

"Oh it was simply idiotic!" Lucius moaned and sat back into the chair in his study. "The instructor wanted us to paint our _feelings_. Obviously he had no idea that purebloods do not express _feelings_ especially in an art class, in public of all things."

"So you didn't paint anything then?" Draco sat down in the chair, confused and slightly crestfallen.

"Well no, I did paint. I splattered paint all over the canvas, and stabbed holes in it. I was hoping they thought I was deranged so they would kick me out. But as fortune refuses to shine on me, they think I'm sort of demented, tortured artist of all things. They _like_ me."

Draco blinked. "Father, that's a good thing. The demented, tortured artist thing maybe not so much- but you can go to that class, and feel like you're not being judged. This is a chance to make yourself at home again in normal life! You should be happy."

"I should be mortified, and I am." Lucius shook his head. "I'm not going back there." Once the words had tumbled out of his lips, he saw the disappointed look on his son's face. "You can't expect me to go back there. It's humiliating! I'm not "demented" and I'm not "tortured"! I refuse to play the part. …Oh, please. Must you look at me like that?"

"One more class! If it's not any better, then you don't have to go. It would look bad if you never showed up again. It would look like… well… you're a coward, father."

Lucius cringed at the word. He stared at his son, who refused to back down. He let out a slow, frustrated sigh. Draco was only trying to help him. His son, whose life Lucius had influenced in all the wrong ways, was trying to help him be happy. Guilt overwhelmed him, and he fought to keep his face neutral. He knew, but would never admit, that he could deny Draco nothing. "Very well, Draco. One more class."

(TBC)


	2. Chapter 2

Title: To Overcome  
>Pairing: Harry Potter x Lucius Malfoy, mentions of Draco Malfoy x Blaise Zabini, and some mentions of Narcissa Malfoy x Lucius Malfoy<br>Rated: M for various sexual themes  
>Summary: Lucius Malfoy finds himself at a crossroads a year after the war. He doesn't know who or what he is anymore, and unwanted attention from Harry Potter makes finding himself all the more difficult.<br>Disc: Not my men  
>Notes: A good chunk of this story is already written. It's gigantic so I thought it'd be best to carve it up into chapters.<p>

(*) Chapter 2(*)

One class quickly became two. Two became three. By the end of the month, Lucius was looking forward to going. People in class had warmed up to him since the first incident, and the subject matter for their paintings slowly became concepts he could grasp- whether it was because Lucius was unintentionally learning new concepts or he had convinced himself that Kline was bending to his desire for representational art was uncertain. He took his seat in the back of the room where the light was best, amongst people who didn't feel like they had to shift away from him anymore.

"Alright class- today we're having a model come in to pose nude for us as part of our compositional workshop. I don't want anyone to make a fuss about who it is, this is for artistic purposes only."

Lucius wrinkled his nose at the idea, it was a class for figure drawing. It was simply a person being nude, for academic purposes. Who would have a problem with it? When the door to the room opened, he dropped his sketch book. He opened his mouth to utter the young man's name but quickly clamped his lips shut. Thankfully Delores Pumpernickle said what he was thinking.

"Harry Potter!"

There was a shuffling of nervousness, murmured whispers, and Lucius felt the urge to crawl out the door again. He couldn't possibly sit there and watch Harry Potter disrobe so that he could draw him in the nude. He had tried to kill him on occasions before- this was not proper. He glanced toward the door, trying to figure out the best way out of the class. There was no clear path for him to take that would allow him to leave unnoticed, and no chance to apparate out due to the charms placed around the building. He was trapped.

"Harry has agreed to pose for our class." Kline began. "So please show him respect. Do not let your own inhibitions choke the life out of your potential for success."

Lucius clapped his hand over his eyes as he heard the sound the fabric from Harry's robe hit the floor.

"Everybody begin."

Kline's words echoed in his head, but that hadn't motivated him to move any faster, or for him to even pick up his discarded sketch book. He wondered if Harry had noticed him sitting in the class. It was difficult to see everyone, especially those in the back. Slowly he reached down to grab his sketch book, groping blindly until he found it and dragged it onto his lap.

"You know, it works better with your eyes open."

Lucius bristled at the sound of Kline's voice from behind him. "I can't." He rasped. "This is a bad idea- the history between us, it's- _I tried to kill him, for Merlin's sake._" He hissed out the last part, looking pleadingly up at Kline. "I shouldn't be here right now."

Kline shook his head. "As a muggle born wizard, I'm inclined to agree. You should be in Azkaban with his followers, but you're here in my class instead- doing a decent job painting I might add. Life is fairly amusing isn't it, if not a bit cruel. I gave you a chance. These people gave you a chance. Art's not about what's comfortable, it's about experience."

"…This is because I called non representational art no better than toilet paper, isn't it?" Lucius scowled.

"Actions and words do tend to come back to haunt a person, Lucius. Good to see you're learning. Sketch."

Lucius scowled again and slowly peeled his hand away from his eyes. Harry was standing there, naked as the day he was born, in the middle of the class. For a brief, fleeting moment he wondered how one possessed the courage to do that. But once his eyes roamed over Harry's form, strong with lines of muscle from years on the quidditch team, he quickly forgot all about who that was. He shifted uncomfortably on the stool, crossing one leg over the other to begin sketching. _It's not Harry Potter, it's not the boy who lived- this is a young man rather than a scrawny boy. A young man with nice body, nothing more nothing less. Stop looking so hard! _He chided himself and started to sketch. Slowly, a composition he liked sprang forth on the page. Time and awkwardness melted away, considering he was still sitting here not having been hexed by Harry Potter he doubted the young man had noticed he was in the class at all- a fact that he was taking advantage of. Every once in awhile, he looked up to drink in the sight of youthful, toned flesh. It was a sight to see, forbidden things were always the best. _So that is what the boy who lived looks like beneath it all. Really, he does look good. One more look, it couldn't hurt._ Once the class was over though, he made sure to bolt for the door- taking advantage of the shuffling of people packing up.

Harry looked up from his discussion with Kline, spying a trademark flash of platinum blonde hair whipping around the door frame in a hasty exit. He frowned, knowing very few people to have that particular shade of blonde color or hair length.

"Kline?" Delores came up with Lucius's sketch book in his hands. "Lucius forgot his sketch book. He seemed in a pretty big hurry to leave."

"_Lucius_?" Harry blinked as he glanced down at the characteristically expensive leather bound sketch book.

"Oh. Well, he'll be back for it." Kline took the book back and sat it back down on the desk. "Lucius is my student, Harry. He was here. I hope you don't mind."

Harry looked down on at the book on the desk. Lucius Malfoy had seen him naked. He let the thought roll around in his mind for a moment or two before deciding he really couldn't find an answer to how he felt. "I'm… not sure what to feel. Is it alright if I take this? I'll drop it off to him. …I needed to talk to his son about something anyway."

"I don't see why not- especially if you're going all the way out there anyway." He grabbed the book off the desk and handed it to Harry. "And thanks again, Harry. I hope this helped."

Harry nodded. "It did. Thank you for the opportunity." He offered Kline a slight smile, and left to go get dressed.

(*)

"Potter, why are you on my door step?"

Harry looked at Draco's calm face, noting that he was spared the usual venom this time. "I'm here to return this." He pulled out Lucius's sketch book. "He left it behind in class today."

Draco stared at the sketch book for a moment. "How… I… father didn't say you were in his class. He would have mentioned that- did you steal my father's things?"

Harry looked flabbergasted for just a moment, wondering if he should tell the truth or not. "I was there because I was modeling for the class. He left it behind, Malfoy. If I stole it, why would I come here to bring it back?" He bit back an insult that came so naturally to him when it came to the blonde in front of him.

"I don't… Whatever." He muttered. "Give it here then. I'll give it to him."

"No." Harry put the book back in his bag. "I'll give it to him myself, or I won't give it to him at all."

Draco scowled. "Why are you being so difficult?"

"I could ask that same question." Harry retorted. "You're being just as difficult. Let me see your father, I'll give him his book back. Don't make something simple into something stupidly difficult."

Draco sighed and finally nodded. "Alright… alright. This way please. Father came back rather hastily, saying he forgot to do something important, and is in his study. I don't think he'll want to be bothered." He gestured to Harry to follow him. He lead the other man down the long halls of the manor until they came to Lucius's study. "I'm not going to bother him. Since you're being a fool, you can knock."

"Thanks, Malfoy." Harry shrugged and watched Draco leave. He waited until he was gone from view before working up the nerve to knock. He had his fist raised to hit the door when he heard the sounds of a soft groan. He flushed a bit, knowing that sound well. It sounded strange coming from Lucius, but the nature of it was the same. He licked at his dry lips tentatively, morbid curiosity gripping him. He quietly opened up his bag, removing his invisibility cloak- he had made sure to bring it with him everywhere he went, and should he have lost the nerve to pose nude, at least he had a way out of it. He draped it around himself, testing the handle on the door. It opened for him with an easy swing and a quiet click. He made his way into the rich room, decked out in dark reds and old wood, noting the finery in the room as he crept quietly over toward the middle.

Before he could appraise anything else, another moan interrupted him. He turned his attention to the languid figure of Lucius Malfoy seated at his desk. His shirt was undone, hanging open at his sides, and his pants were pushed down past his knees. Harry crept closer, praying that every floor board in Malfoy manor was well fastened to the ground to prevent any squeak. When he grew close enough, he saw the older man's hand sliding up and down his rigid length, while his other was drawing idle circles around his chest. Strands of his long hair stuck to his face as he licked at his lips- another moan passing over them.

Harry was trapped on the spot. He couldn't move, even if he wanted to. He watched Lucius arch off the chair in pleasure, moaning a little louder. His lips went dry as he analyzed the scene. There he was, watching an old enemy in a very vulnerable position, prone, naked and unaware of his existence. He felt his own length getting hard as he watched the sight. Another long, rough moan sent shivers down his spine. Even doing something like this, Lucius looked regal. His fingers twitched under the cloak- he wanted to touch the older man, just to see if he was real- to feel that smooth elegant flesh for himself. He wanted to wrap his lips around him, to feel his enviable climax first hand.

A harsh, shuddered sigh and a soft cry later, Lucius brought himself to orgasm. He lay panting against his black leather chair, blonde hair sticking to his face and chest as he calmed down. A few muttered words escaped his lips, cleaning off his body with a quick spell. His hands fixed his clothing, making sure nothing was a miss before getting to his feet to exit out the door toward the opposite end of the room. Harry didn't know where it went exactly, but with the study now empty, he had the chance to act. He put the sketch book down, and ripped a piece of parchment in half. He enchanted the other half so that if Lucius felt inclined to answer him Harry would get the message immediately.

He scrawled out:

_I saw what you were doing in here. Thinking of me? _

_H._

_PS: The parchment's enchanted. If you write me something, I'll get the message._

He put the note in the sketch book right on the first page- leaving the book on the middle of Lucius's desk for him to find before making a hasty exit out of the manor.

(*)

Harry didn't have to wait long. As soon as he was back at Grimmauld Place, he unfolded the parchment to see a hastily written, yet elegant looking scrawl.

_How did you get in to my study?_

_L. _

_PS: You're quite the pervert. _

Grinning, he sat down on the couch and picked up his quill to respond.

_Draco let me in. You forgot your sketch book. I was doing the right thing by returning it. It's not my fault you don't lock your doors. By the way, you're pretty good at sketching. I took the liberty of looking. _

_H. _

_PS: Invisibility cloaks are nice this time of year. _

He imagined the look on Lucius's face, he figured it was a mixture of horror and surprise. He glanced down at the parchment again at the words that formed there soon after his last message.

_It seems like you took a lot of liberties, Potter. I'm old enough to be your father. I've tried to kill you. I've insulted you. Are you blackmailing me? What do you want- and make it quick because I'm not in the business of being patient, especially when dealing with you. _

_L. _

_PS: Thanks for that bit of knowledge. I'll be sure to create wards to warn me of such a device if it comes into the manor again. _

_PPS: Thank you. But I'm more of a painter than a sketcher._

Harry snickered at the reply. He had nothing to blackmail Lucius with, but this conversation was the most interesting one he had in awhile. Since the end of the war with Voldemort, he finished the last of his studies and moved on to start the necessary training becoming an auror. He had attended parties in celebration- though, it wasn't like he wanted to go to them. Truth be told, he missed the constant action and adventure of his Hogwarts years. He thought the quiet would be a nice change of pace, but it was boring. He needed something interesting, and had taken to doing different things to get the old spark of adventure back. Standing naked in front of a class of people was not the rush he hoped for, but Lucius was. He chewed on the end of his quill, thinking of an appropriate reply.

_No, I don't want to blackmail you. I'd rather do many other things to you that are way more fun. Interested? _

_H. _

Lucius's reply was immediate and expected.

_I'm too old for you._

_L._

_PS: You couldn't handle me._

Harry smiled a little at the words on the parchment, deciding to leave him alone for now.

(TBC)


	3. Chapter 3

Title: To Overcome  
>Pairing: Harry Potter x Lucius Malfoy, mentions of Draco Malfoy x Blaise Zabini, and some mentions of Narcissa Malfoy x Lucius Malfoy<br>Rated: M for various sexual themes  
>Summary: Lucius Malfoy finds himself at a crossroads a year after the war. He doesn't know who or what he is anymore, and unwanted attention from Harry Potter makes finding himself all the more difficult.<br>Disc: Not my men  
>Notes: A good chunk of this story is already written. It's gigantic so I thought it'd be best to carve it up into chapters.<p>

(*) Chapter 3(*)

Lucius looked down at the parchment, waiting for Harry's reply. When several minutes passed, he tucked the scrap back in his sketch book. He scowled softly at it. If he hadn't forgotten it, this mess wouldn't have happened. Harry never would have seen him in the middle of an intimate act, and he would never have had to know about the younger man's thoughts about him. Though, the more he thought about it, the less horrified and more flattered he became. Maybe he was frightened off by Lucius's reply. With a sigh he pushed himself away from his desk, heading off to go to bed.

The next few days between painting classes passed without incident. There was no reply from Harry on the parchment, though he found himself checking more than he should have. Once it was time for class, he was there on time, at his easel. Kline was there as well, looking his usual messy self, with his paint stained robes.

"Good afternoon. I've got some exciting news for you."

Lucius paled. The last time Kline said something similar, he got an eye full of Harry Potter. He shifted on his stool, crossing one leg over the other.

"The ministry is having a sponsored art exhibit. They want each person in the class to submit a piece of art for the show. It's possible that your pieces may even be sold."

A ripple of excitement went through the class. Lucius thought of the paintings he had made over the past few weeks. One of them had to be worthy enough to go into the show.

"I will help you choose the piece, and it will be one of your best. I hope you're all excited about this. I also hope you did some proper sketches from our last session, as our next piece will be on figural representation. However, it does not have to represent Mr. Potter in anyway, he was kind enough to model for us."

Lucius rolled his eyes and said nothing as he pulled out a clean canvas to start putting one of his sketches to work.

"I did ask him back to help solidify your sketches, and he was more than happy to help us out."

Lucius accidently snapped the thin piece of vine charcoal he used for sketching. _Of course he was. He wants to 'do' things to me. _He scowled at the canvas as he heard the doors open up. He squashed himself down on his seat, wondering if Harry could see him from his spot in the back row. _Pervert. He had best not be thinking of me while modeling after his little implications unless he really wants to give the class show. _He heard the whispers of excitement about being graced by Harry Potter again from his fellow classmates, followed by the sound of dropped clothes.

He felt less inclined to look this time. He had no desire to see Harry naked as the last time he earned himself some unwelcomed attention from the younger man in question.

(*)

Harry glanced up at the sea of canvases blocking his view of the students. He wondered which one was Lucius, and whether or not the older man was going to be looking at him or not. One of them in particular seemed hard at work sketching away on the canvas. His eyes drifted down the person's body, catching what appeared to be a very nice pair of shoes. Only Lucius Malfoy would wear nice shoes to an art class. He probably didn't own anything dirty, old, or even subpar.

He kept his eyes focused on the student, waiting for anything that would tip him off, other than the pair of shoes. Soon enough he was rewarded as Lucius reached down to grab something from his field bag. The long blonde hair spilled over his shoulder, making Harry wonder if it was as nice to touch as it looked. _Look at me. I know you want to. Look at me!_

Lucius turned just enough to the side to catch a glimpse of Harry. Emerald eyes met silver for just a brief moment before the older man sat back up straight. It left Harry feeling satisfied, but he wanted more. He glanced over to Kline, making a gesture toward him as he needed to speak with him.

(*)

There were several instances where Lucius could recall being uncomfortable, but this one took them all. He sat still rigidly, his sketching slowing down to nothing. He didn't want to do anymore art at the moment, as his eyes longingly attached themselves to the exit. He heard the bustle of robes behind him, glancing back to see Kline.

"Nice composition."

"Thank you." Lucius said and waited for the other shoe to drop. When it didn't come, he sighed. "But…?"

"But nothing. Harry said he'd like to see you after class."

Lucius bristled. "Liking and receiving are two different things. Harry Potter would like to see me, but he won't. I refuse. This situation is inappropriate as it is. As soon as class is over, I'm leaving. You're lucky I don't leave right now."

"You're wrong. If you left right now I would be spared your constant whining about this or that. You complain and decide the outcome of everything before it even starts. You have a chance at life, maybe you should start living it."

Lucius watched Kline walk away, shaking his head. _If you knew what I knew about the good Mr. Potter and his designs on me, you'd amend that statement._ He glanced back to his canvas and slowly went back to work. Class flew by faster than he would have liked. He didn't want to talk to Harry, but at the same time Kline's words pinged back and forth in his head. _What was the harm in just seeing what he wanted?_ Steeling himself for anything, he packed up his supplies and waited for the class room to clear out. Slowly he descended down the steps toward a now clothed Harry. "What is it now, Mr. Potter? What inappropriate remark do you have ready?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he looked at the older man in front of him. He seemed annoyed, but Harry was convinced that was his default expression. "Did you want to go get some drinks down at that café on the corner?"

"No."

"Dinner?"

"No."

"Drinks at a bar?"

"No."

"Fuck on the desk?"

"N-What?" Lucius looked indignant.

"I was just checking to see if you were paying attention." Harry grinned at him, lowering his voice just slightly. "Unless you _wanted_ to have sex on the desk."

"I do not!" He replied hotly. "What is your sudden fascination with me, Potter? It's not proper! I demand an explanation at once."

"You're interesting." Harry said simply and rested up against the desk. "The past several years of my life, I've been up to something. Now I'm up to nothing. I don't like it—I thought I would, but I don't. It's too quiet, there's no challenge, no obstacle to overcome. But you, you're different. You are a challenge. You are your own obstacle. Beautiful, intelligent, and so very cold- besides, you can't deny the attraction between us, especially after I caught you pleasuring yourself to me."

"You don't know that!" Lucius's cheeks turned red from embarrassment. "I could have been thinking of anything!"

"Sure- but you left so quickly after spending all that time seeing me naked. What was I supposed to think?"

"High on yourself, aren't you Potter?" Lucius crossed his arms. "You're something else. You really are. Sneaking into my study, watching me in the middle of a very private act, and now you're… you're…"

"Pursuing you?"

"I was going to say stalking." Lucius scowled. "I'm not interested. You could be very bad for me. I'm not going to risk being further shunned by the public for negative press." He shifted his field bag over his shoulder. "You may be a handsome young man, Potter- but I'm not in the market for a lover. I hope you'll take this denial of your intentions well. I know you're not used to hearing the word _no_."

Harry nodded slowly. "You're right. I'm not used to hearing the word no." He reached out and took Lucius's forearm, feeling the muscles there tense right up. "But you're not the least bit intrigued, are you?"

Lucius gritted his teeth. "No, I'm afraid not. Get your hand off of me unless you'd fancy loosing it!"

"You wouldn't do that." Harry stepped closer, while Lucius took a step back. "If you wanted to, you would have attacked me already. You would have ignored my request to see you after class. I think you're interested deep down, but don't want to admit it. What is it, Lucius? Does it hurt your pride to be pursued? Or are you repressed- interested by the idea of wild passionate sex with a younger man, but your duties and adherence to whatever appearance you're trying to keep up are getting in the way."

Lucius's back collided up against the wall, Harry's body now flush against his. "So this is how the golden boy operates?" He hissed out, glaring holes into Harry's eyes. "Take what you want from those who are willing… and those who aren't?"

"I want you to want it too. I want you to come undone." Harry frowned. "And again, you don't push me away."

"Potter- I don't want to 'come undone' in an art studio." He muttered and put his hands on his shoulders. His mind had already pushed Harry away, but his body was growing accustomed to the body pressed up against his. It felt good to be desired again, it felt nearly normal. Harry's face came in closer. He felt the warm puff of his breath against his lips. He remembered the twelve year old boy from Florish & Blotts who stared up at him with defiant green eyes, finding it unsurprising that he grew up into a defiant young man. He licked his lips nervously, his tongue nearly coming into contact with Harry's lips. He fidgeted, trapped between Harry and the wall. "Potter- what are you…"

"Nothing, because you don't want to come undone in an art studio, remember?"

"You're infuriating."

Harry slipped his hand between them, letting it rest on Lucius's chest. "Your heart's beating fast." He murmured and let his hand trail down his chest, over his hip, and gave it a firm squeeze. Lucius still didn't push him away, his hands twisting in his shirt as if conflicted on what to do. He slipped his hand from his hip, inside of his robes and under Lucius's shirt. The hot skin of his abdomen bristled under his touch. "Feel good?"

Lucius chewed on his bottom lip, looking at Harry with murderous intent. However, he still didn't push him away. "Molester."

"Then push me away."

He felt frozen on the spot, the warm hand on his hot flesh felt so good, so tantalizing as it remained right where it was on his stomach. When it did move, and was joined by another. Both hands rode up his skin toward his chest. "P-Potter- what are you-"

Harry didn't answer. He brushed his finger tips over Lucius's nipples, smirking as the older man arched right off the wall in response. He rubbed the pads of his thumbs over them, enjoying the shocked look on Lucius's face as the man tried in vain to stifle a moan as he raked his teeth across his bottom lip.

"Stop, Potter- seriously- _stop_!"

The sudden change in his voice and demeanor caught Harry off guard. As did the hand on his shoulder spinning him around, and the hard punch to his face.

"Leave my father alone!" Draco bellowed, standing there shaking with rage- his fists still balled up. "What's the matter with you Potter- Your girlfriend not giving you enough so you force yourself on my father who I fought with to come out in public again for months? I swear, Potter, if this messes him up and he continues to be a hermit after this, you're dead!"

Lucius rubbed his temples. "Draco, I'm right here you know. Come on, let's go." He reached out and took his son's arm leading him out of the room.

As they left, Draco continued to shout. "You're _disgusting_. Stay away from my father!"

Harry watched them go, rubbing his cheek in surprise. He was so wrapped up in Lucius he didn't hear him come in.

(TBC)


	4. Chapter 4

Title: To Overcome  
>Pairing: Harry Potter x Lucius Malfoy, mentions of Draco Malfoy x Blaise Zabini, and some mentions of Narcissa Malfoy x Lucius Malfoy<br>Rated: M for various sexual themes  
>Summary: Lucius Malfoy finds himself at a crossroads a year after the war. He doesn't know who or what he is anymore, and unwanted attention from Harry Potter makes finding himself all the more difficult.<br>Disc: Not my men  
>Notes: A good chunk of this story is already written. It's gigantic so I thought it'd be best to carve it up into chapters.<p>

*Special note: This chapter's like… 9 pages long XD Happy reading!

(*) Chapter 4(*)

"Of all the nerve of him!" Draco spat as he stomped alongside his father. "I can't believe he did that to you- Potter's a lot of things but I never would have thought 'molester' to be one of those things! What if I didn't come in? He could have… done…" He shuddered. "You know-I'm not going to think about it. Instead, I'm going to write a lengthy letter to Shacklebolt about everyone's favorite person in the whole damn wor-"

Lucius stopped, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Stop. That's enough. I'll handle this myself, Draco. This is my problem."

"But-"

"But _nothing_." He watched his son wince, and instantly changed his tone into a calmer one. "I do appreciate you coming to my aid, but I'm your father, not the other way around. You should be concerning yourself with your own issues, not my own."

"But it's Potter!" Draco sputtered. "You know how much I hate him!"

"I do. And if I need advice I will come to you first." Lucius smirked a little. "I can handle Potter. Now- if you'll excuse me I need to go shower. I've got charcoal on my hands from sketching and that old school mate of yours, Millicent, accidently spilled her gel medium all over me."

Draco nodded, and seeing that his father wasn't traumatized from Potter, he relaxed. "Alright father. I'll see you soon."

Lucius parted from his son, heading toward his bedroom. He opened up his sketch book where he kept the enchanted parchment to see if Harry left him a note. There, scrawled out in his usual messy hand writing was a note.

_Draco has a nice right hook. Don't tell him I said that. I'm sorry if I took things too far. _

_H._

He picked up his quill and wrote a reply.

_You should be. Where do you get off groping me in a public place? One would think you'd have the brains to do it in private. _

_L. _

Lucius just shook his head at the thought, angry with himself for not pushing Harry away. But the touch, the warmth of another person felt so good. He glanced over to Narcissa's spot in the bed. They had drifted apart after the war. She was easily forgiven, having aided Harry- and enjoyed going out to enjoy the admiration of others while he anguished in his own self exile at home. He missed his wife, but he didn't blame her for their gap, or what he assumed where lovers she took while on trips. It felt nice to be desired, even if it was from the one person it shouldn't be coming from. He glanced down at the parchment again to read Harry's reply.

_Couldn't help myself. And you refused all my other suggestions. How do I get you into a private place to grope you? I can't sneak in if you put wards on your manor against my cloak. _

_H. _

He wrinkled his nose down at the parchment. He made a mental note to remember to actually do that.

_You're creative. And since you can't get in to see me, I'm going to take a very long, very hot shower knowing I won't be interrupted by certain perverts. _

_L. _

The reply was immediate.

_Sure you don't want company? I'm a good spectator. _

_H._

Lucius uttered a soft 'ha!' and sent his last reply.

_Bugger off, Potter. Though I'm sure you have already._

_L. _

(*)

Harry stared at the answer on the parchment. Lucius was probably entering the shower right now, letting the water wash over his firm skin. The water making his platinum hair darker in color as it stuck to his slick skin as he brushed it over his shoulder. He wondered how aroused he made Lucius with his little stunt, and if he would ever get the chance to do it again. He shut his eyes, resting his head back as he let his hand wander into his pants.

Yes, Lucius in the shower was quite the sight. He inserted himself into the fantasy, as he had done most nights since setting his sights on Lucius in the first place. Walking into the shower, he let the hot water run over his tired flesh, smirking slightly when the older blonde man walked in a minute later.

"Master Potter- might I take my shower with you? I know how much you hate to waste water." Lucius purred and pressed his body to Harry's. "I would hate to have you send me back to Azkaban for doing such a terrible thing."

Harry grinned as Lucius began to kiss his jaw, and down his neck. "Ah… As would I. Who would bring me my slippers and Daily Prophet in the morning?"

"Not I, Master Potter." Lucius breathed huskily against his neck. "Shall I perform my usual morning duties?" His hand drifted down to stroke Harry's shaft. "I do so love my morning chores."

"I know you do." Harry grinned. Only in his dreams would the defiant Lucius Malfoy ever be this way. It was a nice change, seeing him eagerly bring himself down to his knees, his mouth wrapped around his shaft- eager to give Harry pleasure. The real Lucius would be kicking and screaming bloody murder, leaving the both of them too exhausted to actually do anything. He imagined Lucius would be good at this, at least he hoped he would be, as he pumped his hand along his erection. With the sticky mess now coating his hand, he figured he should actually go take a shower.

When he came out of the bathroom, he picked up the quill and parchment again.

_You seem to know me well. I think it's love, and you're refusing to accept it. _

_H. _

A moment later, Lucius's reply came.

_If it's love, then someone must have hit me in the back of the head fairly hard to make me lose my mind. Give up the chase, Potter... You won't win. I am not a prize to be won, by the way- no matter how much you might like to claim victory. _

_L._

He chuckled and chewed on the end of his quill in thought before writing his reply. At the very least there was this banter.

_Too bad, I was building a trophy case for you. I suppose I'll have to find something else to put there now. Damn. In all seriousness, Lucius, one day I will get you all to myself- and should you just give me a chance, I will take your breath away. _

_H. _

He wasn't expecting an answer, but was pleased when it came.

_And just how do you plan to do that? Enlighten me so I can see it coming. _

_L. _

Harry decided to wait. Some things were better left told in person.

(*)

The next morning, Draco paced outside of his father's door. "Are you almost ready father?"

"Well yes, but I still don't see why you have to come with me." Lucius muttered and came out of his bedroom. He dressed simply, but even black slacks, fitted collared and buttoned shirts, and a knee length jacket never failed to look expensive on the older man. "It's just the art supply store, hardly a dangerous trip wrought with felons and potential misery."

"I know." Draco said slowly. "But I still wish to go. In case Potter-"

Lucius snapped around to look at his son. "I can handle him, Draco."

"Like you handled him in the studio? That isn't how one handles Harry Potter." He scowled slightly. "Potter's a letch, I have seven years of experience with him, and I for one will be glad to help guard you against whatever perverse thing he wants you for!"

Lucius's thoughts drifted to the parchment with their notes on it. He had a fairly good idea what was wanted from him. He decided wisely against mentioning that to Draco. "He's a young man. Young men don't know how to handle themselves in the face of great beauty. You should know—you and that Zabini boy are quite _loud_ when you wish to be."

Draco colored slightly and coughed an excuse into his hand, apparating to Diagon Alley with his father. "I'm so sorry, father- we got carried away."

"Oh, it's fine." He said dismissively. "Blaise is from a good wizarding family, and I have honestly no right to dictate to you what you should do, as I've failed miserably at that in my own life—and yours as well." His thoughts drifted to their matching light scars on their arms- a faded memory of the dark mark he was so inspired to get that he drove his son to get one too.

"Father." Draco said firmly. "Everyone makes mistakes. …Some make a lot of them, some make very few. You paid a lot for… for everything. I'm not mad at you. I could never be." Draco said quietly and put a hand on his father's shoulder as they walked toward the supply store.

Lucius glanced over to him, smiling proudly at his son- wondering when he got so wise. Once they were in the store, he watched in slight amusement as Draco's nose wrinkled. Lucius was used to the smell by now. "You'll get used to it. Come along- I just need some new brushes. We won't be here long."

Draco followed his father, quickly losing interest in what he was doing in favor of peering around at the funny looking wizard with the paint stained robes. "Artists are strange, father."

Lucius looked toward what Draco was referencing and sighed. "That's Kline, Draco. He teaches my art class. And you're right, he is a bit strange."He rifled through the brushes, looking through the various kinds for specific sizes to experiment with.

He picked up a t-square, fumbling with it as he wrestled with a question that had been on my mind for quite awhile. He had no idea Harry could paint until he showed up to return his father's sketch book. "So… Is Potter a good model?"

The question caught him off guard, causing him to knock some of the brushes over. He picked them up, giving Draco an odd look. "Er… I suppose. He shows up and stands there; I believe that requires no actual skill other than being punctual and being able to remove one's clothing."

Draco frowned. "Why didn't you ask me?"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Don't look so hurt, to pose for our class it's in the buff. I didn't want to ask you because I didn't want to see my son naked. Surely you understand."

"I… do. But… but _why_ would he?"

Lucius shrugged. "I suppose he's bored, Draco…" Finished with picking his brushes he started toward the front of the store. "He probably needed a thrill to replace the lack of adventure that isn't the bright spot in his life now."

"Really." Draco said flatly. "Does he consider you an adventure too?"

Lucius frowned, paying for his brushes. "Please, don't ask such questions. It's uncomfortable enough as it is. Boys have their 'fascinations' I'm sure his with me will wane when he realizes he won't be getting anything out of me."

He scowled at the thought of Potter forcing himself on his father again. It made him sick to his stomach. Once they were outside again, he felt slightly better. "Damn straight, father. I don't want him around you."

"I gathered, since when did my son become my body guard?" Lucius asked amused as they walked with each other past an outdoor café.

"Since Potter!" He spat. "He doesn't have a father, so he thinks he can not only steal mine but… but try to… to-"

"Draco, look!" Lucius interrupted, pointing toward Blaise who was enjoying a cup of tea. "Isn't that Blaise over there? Why don't you go see him?"

"But-"

"I insist." Lucius purred and directed his son toward Blaise. "I'll make it home alright, go on now." He gave him a gentle shove, watching his son wander on over to join his old classmate. Grateful to have some time to think to himself he started toward the end of the street. With the café behind him, he relaxed further. He enjoyed being around his son, but when Draco tried to mother him it was simply too odd for him to deal with.

It felt good to be out in Diagon Alley again, feeling like he was a normal person, enjoying normal things. The scowls he received seemed less than he anticipated, which some. He paused to take a seat on the bench, glancing down the street at the people strolling by. While his head was turned, he felt the presence of someone sitting beside him. He turned to see the youthful face and large grin of Harry Potter. "Stalking me again, Potter?" He said cooly.

"You're easy to spot in a crowd. No one happens to look like you- muggle or wizard. No one has your features- not even Draco."

The compliment made him smirk before he could stop himself.

"I got you to smile." Harry's grin grew.

Lucius wrinkled his nose at him. "No, you got me to smirk."

"Call it whatever you'd like, you're still doing it."

"You're infuriating." Lucius crossed his arms across his chest and slid down toward the end of the bench. "Unfortunately it's a public place and you have every right to occupy the space next to me."

"I know. It's great." Harry said and moved closer to him. He glanced down to Lucius's gloved hand, and took it. He felt the older man flinch at the sudden touch as he tried to pull his hand away.

"Potter, let me go! People will see us! Th-this is a busy street."

"It isn't a crime to hold someone's hand."

"It's a crime to hold mine!" He said in frustration and stood up. "I'm not in a favorable position in society, if people saw us like this they might think-"

"I don't care what they think. They can all bugger off." Harry said firmly and held tight to Lucius's hand. "The public loves or hates me, as I've come to find out, with just the slightest shift in news. It's stupid, and it's not something I'll ever care about."

"Well, I do! …Potter, let go of my hand."

"Nope." Harry stood up. Lucius was strong, he noted, but Harry wasn't about to let him go. He was amused that in all of Lucius's struggle to not cause a scene, he was making one. "People are starting to look over here, you know." He whispered scandalously to Lucius.

Immediately he calmed down, the hand and arm going slack as he turned away from the street to look at the alleyway with extreme interest. "We'll talk in there."

"Great idea!" Harry directed Lucius down the alley, away from the prying eyes of the general public. He frowned a little at how dirty it was, stepping over some trash to get to a spot that was relatively clean to stand in.

"You need to stop it- I don't want your attention. I don't want it at all! Why won't you listen to me? Why do you insist on hunting me! This is wrong, Potter."

"Not to me- we're two adults. There's nothing wrong about it." Harry still kept a grip on his hand. "I don't want you to be worried about them." He gestured toward the street they had just come from. "They don't matter. What does it matter if they accept you back in or not? You have Draco, you can have me- and er… your wife." Realization dawned on him. He kept forgetting Lucius was married, and to a woman he owed his life to.

Observing the sudden guilt on Harry's face, Lucius looked satisfied. "So, you understand now. This can't happen between us… I'm a married man."

"Do you love her?"

The older man blinked at the frank question. At one point, of course he did. "We've… we've grown apart, understandably. She's free to come and go as she pleases, as a hero. She's unfortunately sidled with me, an ex-deatheater. Coupled with how I was treated in the manor by Vol…" He paused, licking at his lips as he attempted to say it. "Voldemort… and my stint in Azkaban- those terrible memories come back to her. She can't… she won't touch me. I understand, Potter. I don't force her to be with me, she can do as she wants." When he was finished he rested slack against the wall, looking visibly upset as he grey eyes drifted down to the floor of the filthy alley.

Harry looked at the man against the brick wall, with his downtrodden expression, the sadness pulling at his lips. He put his other hand on his cheek. "It's lonely, isn't it. Trapped up in your home like an elaborate prison…"

Lucius didn't answer. He did, however, lean into the touch.

He was stunned to find himself feeling sorry for the older man. He lusted for him, but true sorrow was something he doubted he could ever feel. But when being faced with just how miserable, how lonely he looked right now, he couldn't help but empathize. "I'm sorry, Lucius. I… I know how that feels, to be utterly trapped. To be treated as nothing, to be looked upon as a disgrace. You just… want someone, anyone to say a kind word- even if it's hello."

He looked up at Harry with sharp grey eyes, wanting to know where he got off thinking that he had any right to empathize- how could he possibly know what Lucius was going through? Looking at the serious expression on Harry's face however, his harsh expression melted away. There was something about the way his green eyes looked at him- Harry did know. "…How…"

"My aunt and uncle who I lived with hated magic. Let your imagination take you from there."

"…_Oh_." Lucius said and looked uncomfortable. "I see. Potter, I had no idea. I thought-"

"That I would have been treated like a hero in the muggle world too?"

"Well, yes." Lucius said sheepishly.

"Hardly. I was more like a servant than anything." His hand didn't leave the older man's cheek. His thumb began to stroke the soft skin, and he kept talking to prevent Lucius from noticing. "Items were often thrown at my person."

"Why do they have to do that? As if we didn't know what type of an awful hell we were living in already."

"My aunt threw a 'priceless family heirloom' serving tray at me once- nicked me in the back of the knee- suppose I didn't brew the tea correctly for her and her rotary club." Harry's knee ached in the memory. "What about you?"

"The family sword."

Harry immediately winced. "Did it…"

"No, thankfully, I'm quite fast when I want to be." Lucius glanced down at Harry's hand on his cheek. He didn't say anything about it. He had become too relaxed to not care.

"I'm glad."

"You're not the only one." Lucius smiled. He wasn't aware of it until he saw the beaming expression on the younger man's face. "…What?"

"You're smiling again. I did it again, I got you to smile. Keep this up and you'll have to acknowledge that I'm good for you."

Lucius simply sighed. He was fighting a losing battle today. "Right now, I suppose, you are."

"Good. Then you'll come with me to the café for some drinks." Harry slowly pulled himself away from Lucius, tugging on the other man's hand.

"No!" Lucius's eyes went wide. "Not _that_ café, Draco's-"

"With Zabini?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course. Alright, fine. No café, I don't want to cause a scene by riling up Slytherin solidarity. I'm sure Draco would try to stab me in the ribs with a butter knife if I strolled up with you. Zabini, no doubt, would encourage him."

"You're hunting a Slytherin, Potter- one would think you'd be prepared for this. …Come back with me to the manor. We'll have tea in my study. I'm certain it will bring back wonderful memories of your perversion."

(TBC)


	5. Chapter 5

Title: To Overcome  
>Pairing: Harry Potter x Lucius Malfoy, mentions of Draco Malfoy x Blaise Zabini, and some mentions of Narcissa Malfoy x Lucius Malfoy<br>Rated: M for various sexual themes  
>Summary: Lucius Malfoy finds himself at a crossroads a year after the war. He doesn't know who or what he is anymore, and unwanted attention from Harry Potter makes finding himself all the more difficult.<br>Disc: Not my men  
>Notes: A good chunk of this story is already written. It's gigantic so I thought it'd be best to carve it up into chapters.<p>

(*) Chapter 5(*)

Once in the study, Lucius was right- it did bring back memories of his perversion. Harry inhaled deeply. Everything in this room was Lucius- rich, sumptuous, and carried his scent. Thankfully though, Lucius directed him to sit on one of the overstuffed chairs beside the fireplace- away from the desk and the scene he couldn't get out of his head. The older man had left his cloak on the coat stand by the door, and was walking around wearing the normal set of clothing he had on underneath. Which never would have been a big deal for Harry if it didn't look so good on him; he quickly found himself trapped by the spell of Lucius and the way he moved gracefully about the room as he made them both a pot of tea. "I didn't know you knew how to make tea. I figured you had a house elf to do that."

"Some things I prefer to do myself." Lucius poured Harry a cup, handing it over to him. Harry watched the platinum hair spill over his shoulders when he handed him the cup, caught by just how beautiful it looked, wondering how soft it must feel. Lucius brushed it back over his shoulders and out of his way.

"Merlin, you're beautiful." Harry took the cup, unaware of the words he had just uttered. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Lucius muttered and took a sip. He cursed himself inwardly for blushing at Harry's comment but he couldn't help it as it was a real admission of something, and not a line thrown out cheaply to flatter him. Harry didn't seem to be aware of what he had even said. "How is it?"

"Excellent. I don't think Aunt Petunia would throw a serving tray at you."

"Unfortunately I can't say the same for you, Voldemort, and a sword."

Harry burst out laughing. He laughed for a good long time, as if Lucius's joke had struck some sort of cord within him and he couldn't control it any longer. "You know… Lucius… you can be funny when you want to be. …Even if you don't intend to be-"

"Potter, if I say something funny, I always intend it to be."

"Your little quips about me in our parchment correspondence make me laugh sometimes. You always seem to crush my hopes and dreams with the slightest bit of humor that inspires me to come at you for another try. …I think that's what keeps me coming back for more, you know. You don't give me what I want, I have to work for it. I have to get you to see that I am worthy of the chance-"

Lucius clenched his eyes shut. Harry was worthy of him, but Lucius had the nagging doubt in the back of his mind that he wasn't worthy of Harry. The more time the younger man forced him to spend with him, the clearer it became. At one time, he was a prize. The epitome of good breeding and grace- anyone who wished to have him would have to fight an army off. Now, however- he was a felon. People looked at him differently. Everybody except for Draco, and now Harry- he was still something to behold to them. He fought to keep a knot of emotion down, forcing it from his throat to his stomach. "Potter, stop- please."

Harry blinked in surprise, watching Lucius as he stood up. With a graceful sweep of his leg, the little table between them was moved aside. He stood in front of Harry, his arms across his chest.

"I can't deal with you spouting off pleasantries with me as if I didn't spend a year in Azkaban, or didn't fall from grace- I did, I… It hangs over me. When you speak to me, when you say that you need to be worthy of me, you are mentioning a Lucius that has long since gone away. Mentioning him to me… it's a good deal more painful than I realized."

Harry looked up at him in slight confusion. "Lucius, I think you misunderstood. I don't want the old you. I didn't like him, not in the least." He stood up and reached out to pry Lucius's hands from across his chest. He held them both. "I like this Lucius; the one who understands now what mistakes he's made." He murmured. "The more I learn about this Lucius, the more I want to know."

Lucius looked at him, his grey eyes uncertain as they searched Harry's face for any sort of malice or treachery. When he found none, he looked more uncomfortable than he did before. "You really do… you… you're trying to know me."

"I'm also trying to get into your pants, but I've kind of put that on the back burner now. You've… oh… become less of an object of lust and more of a person I'd like to get to know before I continue my hunt."

"What a shame." Lucius teased. "Whatever shall I do without having Potter chasing after my goods?"

"Oh, I'm still chasing them. And I will get them. I've just shifted my priorities." Harry let go of his hands, tentatively putting them on Lucius's hips. "I've decided I want everything, not just one thing."

Lucius put his hands on Harry's shoulders, not pushing him away, but not discouraging him either. "So I see."

"You'll come out with me then. You considered it moments ago, back in the alley before we came here."

Lucius instantly scowled. "No. I will not be, Harry. I've only come to leave the manor recently, the public hasn't accepted me yet, I'm on the fringe-"

"So!" Harry's frustration was heavy in his voice. "It doesn't matter- who cares what they say- I don't care! You're with me, I'll make it okay if other people's opinions mean that much to you."

Lucius pressed his lips together, biting back something he gladly kept quiet. "Your youth has yet to leave you jaded."

"Better trapped in some kind of luxurious prison- you don't bother doing anything, going anywhere! There is nothing keeping you from leaving yet you stay here as if someone's tied your foot to your desk! Stop acting like a wraith, already dead, haunting the halls of your precious manor and come out!"

"Stop acting like you understand a damned thing about me, because you don't!" Lucius threw Harry's hands from his shoulders. "I've been in prison, been tortured, suffered violence on not only my person, but was forced to see my wife and son violated by _him_. And while we were pardoned, I'm still being punished for having survived it all. The people don't want to see me. My painting class tolerates me because they think I'm insane." He said and while he wasn't exaggerating that fact, he wondered if Harry thought he was. He sank back down to his chair, looking dull. "Do you even have the slightest idea of what it's like to completely lose who you are, left with mere pieces to figure everything out when all the excitement's gone?"

Harry wasn't sure if the question was directed to him anymore, or if he was just venting. He clenched his fists together, unsure of why he missed the arrogance Lucius used to have when faced with the lost man sitting in front of him, but deep down he knew. He knew he missed that side because it made Lucius who he was, seeing him lost and unsure of himself was deeply upsetting. He pressed his lips together as he looked conflicted. The man he met in Florish & Blotts was detestable. Arrogant, and infuriating- but sure of himself and confident- a ghost of the past when compared with what Lucius was now. "I… I hate that he broke you."

"Doesn't matter, both him and I are gone."

"Obviously it does because you're still acting like a sad sack." He wanted to laugh as Lucius wrinkled his nose in dismay at him, but he choked it down. "You need to snap out of this." He murmured. "This isn't you. I don't want the old you to return but… but looking at you, I think you need parts of him- the ones that made you, you. Like… like the confidence you used to have."

"It's gon-" Lucius began to say. His head snapped to the side at the force of Harry's surprise slap. He blinked, resting his hand on his cheek. He licked at his lips as they suddenly felt dry. He glanced up at Harry, the young man who had dared slap him. He scowled deeply and stood up grabbing the collar of Harry's shirt. "Now… what would you do that for?" He hissed.

Harry looked relieved when he saw anger flickering in Lucius's eyes. "To make sure you still had that fire. I wanted to see if you were still alive."

Lucius scowled at him and let go of his shirt. He took a step back and straightened his shirt collar that had gotten mussed in the slight altercation. "I assure you I am."

Harry reached out and grabbed his arms. He pressed his lips soundly to the older man's, sliding his tongue without warning into his mouth. He was almost certain Lucius was going to bite his tongue off, but once the shock wore off in his grey eyes; he was pleasantly surprised to still have one. The kiss continued, Harry's hands quickly clamped down on Lucius's hips. He grinned and moved his hands around, slipping below to barely rest on his ass- wanting some leverage in case he went too far and Lucius lashed out. Apparently he hadn't, as Lucius pushed back into them- his hands shoved into Harry's dark locks in order to deepen the kiss. Harry felt nearly dizzy, he wanted to come up for air but he couldn't- he didn't want to break the kiss. Instead, he reached his hand around and slid his hand down the front of Lucius's pants. He was greeted by heat and silk, feeling the stiffened flesh of Lucius's sex against his hand.

Lucius broke the kiss to groan. His head rolled back, exposing the sensitive flesh of his neck to Harry. Lips instantly latched on to his neck, kissing and sucking until he felt his knees buckle from all the attention. "S-stop, Harry-"

Harry's head instantly snapped up looking around for Draco. "What, what's wrong?"

"That's enough." Lucius pulled his hand out of his pants. "It's… I… I will get drinks with you. I've changed my mind."

"B-but-"

"But _nothing_. You said you wanted to get to know me. You will… tomorrow night, at The Three Broomsticks. I'll wear a blue cloak and wait for you by the fireplace. Not a single minute past 8, Harry Potter- Or I will leave. Understand?" The mixture of confusion and reluctance on Harry's face was priceless. "You're getting what you want. You should be pleased."

"…I am." Harry said awkwardly. "I just… you kiss well. And a… a… date?" He paled slightly at the thought.

"You should go, Draco will be back soon."

"Right, Draco." Harry cleared his throat and eyed Lucius one last time. "Sure you don't wish to continue?"

"8 pm. Three Broomsticks. Go now." Lucius said shooing Harry toward the fireplace. "Use the floo powder, it's in the urn." He stood away from the fireplace, watching Harry with his arms crossed firmly across his chest. The young man stumbled through the green flames, off to some destination Lucius didn't bother listening to. Once he was alone with his thoughts he went over to where he kept his canvases, paints, and brushes. He threw the canvas and the paints down on the floor, taking his brush into his hand.

It was time to paint.

(TBC)

***This was a remarkably hard chapter to write. It's been edited more times than I can remember because it's Harry getting down to the root of what's really bothering Lucius, and Lucius reluctantly telling him- it's a chapter that's a turning point in their relationship and as characters in this story. Lucius resolves to actually go out in public on a date, while Harry realizes he doesn't want a quick fuck- he wants an actual relationship. Hopefully that came off well I don't like doing end notes, because I think the story should speak for itself, but I felt it was necessary for this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: To Overcome  
>Pairing: Harry Potter x Lucius Malfoy, mentions of Draco Malfoy x Blaise Zabini, and some mentions of Narcissa Malfoy x Lucius Malfoy<br>Rated: M for various sexual themes  
>Summary: Lucius Malfoy finds himself at a crossroads a year after the war. He doesn't know who or what he is anymore, and unwanted attention from Harry Potter makes finding himself all the more difficult.<br>Disc: Not my men  
>Notes: A good chunk of this story is already written. It's gigantic so I thought it'd be best to carve it up into chapters.<p>

(*) Chapter 6 (*)

"Well?" Lucius drawled out as he gestured toward his painting. It was a picture of a man encased in shadow- his face obscured by darkness except for his very vibrant, predatory green eyes. The rest of the piece was done in grayscale.

Kline nodded slowly in approve. "I like it. I think it's your best work so far. You must think so too, considering you came to my flat at three in the morning, covered in paint."

"You don't sleep. You said so in class. I didn't think you'd mind." He simpered.

"I don't. Do you have a name for it in mind?"

Lucius glanced to his piece which was now currently resting on an easel. He nodded. "Yes, it's called 'The Hunter'."

"Inspired by Harry, I'd say."

Lucius felt a hot flush creep up his neck. He swallowed roughly, refusing to look at the other man. "Is it that obvious?"

"The subject matter of your painting, or that he seems to fancy you? To me, yeah, it's pretty obvious. To anyone else looking at it? No. I wouldn't say so. Your figure has no glasses, no infamous scar. Just the eyes… I believe he'll know too, just by looking at it. I think you should enter it in the ministry show."

"The ministry show… Mmm. No." Lucius frowned. "I can't risk having people think I'm painting lewd portraits of Harry Potter."

"This isn't lewd."

"It's lewd to me! Because I know what he wants to do to me!" Lucius gestured to the painting.

"I didn't need to know that."

"…No. No you didn't. I apologize." He sighed. "It's just… it's so remarkably inappropriate."

"Did you file a report with the ministry about one of their junior aurors harassing you?"

"No." Lucius murmured and looked sheepish. "I suppose I very well could have, but…"

"You like it. You like being pursued. You would have complained if you didn't. You _like_ being pursued by Harry. It must be very flattering to be so attractive to the world's most famous wizard." Kline gave him a sideways look. "That's why this painting here doesn't look malicious or frightening- it's seductive. You can't hide your soul when you paint, Lucius."

"…Do you have to put my name on it at the show?"

"Yes." Kline looked amused. "Just don't go breaking Harry's heart. He's a decent fellow when you get to know him."

"I'm finding that out." Lucius murmured. He looked to his painting, unsteadily shifting his weight from side to side as he debated. "If…If you're certain no one will connect the piece with Harry, then you have my consent to put it in the show."

Kline clapped him on the shoulder. "Grand. Now- can I get you a cup of coffee? I'm on my eighteenth cup, personally."

Lucius knitted his brows together and shook his head. "Kline, ever consider your coffee drinking being the root of why you don't sleep?"

"That is absolutely not the problem. It's the creative nightmares. Well, if you're not going to have a cup, I'm going to drink yours for you. And then have another for me."

(*)

The next evening, Lucius was waiting patiently at The Three Broomsticks for Harry to arrive. He fiddled with the blue cloth of his hooded cloak, frowning as he realized it was still early and not quite eight yet. _What if this whole thing has been a sort of prank? _He doubted that the instant he thought it. Harry had actively sought him out with a gusto he hadn't seen since he was an ethereal teenager. Harry was interested in him, and he liked it. He raked his teeth across his bottom lip. It wasn't proper, but nothing was proper about him anymore.

Harry came stumbling through the door, his hair a mess and clutching on to a bouquet of flowers. He looked around wildly, spotting Lucius right by the fireplace. "There you are. I'm so sorry- I didn't want to be late, but there was a line at the florist and I wanted to… well… here." He handed Lucius the flowers. "I don't even know if it's appropriate to give a man flowers or not I just didn't want to come without anything."

"You could have brought chocolate."

Harry's mouth opened a bit and then snapped shut. He flushed slightly. "Right."

"I'm joking. Thank you. They're quite nice." He gave the bouquet of roses an appraising once over and then set them down on the hearth beside where he sat. "And you're just on time."

"Good."Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, attempting to fix it. "Can I take your cloak?"

"No… no, I prefer to keep it on and up, thank you."

"Baby steps, I suppose." Harry frowned and took a seat next to Lucius. He reached out and took the other man's hand, squeezing it slightly. "I bet you look great, underneath it. But… you always do." He tried to maneuver around, catching the slightest glimpse of a smirk on Lucius's face.

"Of course, I do. And you're right, Harry- I always do."

"Then let me see." He reached over to attempt to pull down the hood of Lucius's cloak, only to find it firmly rooted in place. "What the…"

"Sticking charm."

"Damn you!" Harry laughed and Lucius smirked again. "You anticipated me trying, didn't you?"

"I can't help it if you're easy to read."

Harry shook his head. "You're too much. Can I get you something to drink?"

Lucius hesitated, glancing to the bar. "Er… water. No. No, a butterbeer will be suffice."

"You're certain? Not going to change your mind on me, are you?"

"No, now be a good date and fetch it for me."

Harry returned moments later with two large mugs of it, handing one to Lucius and keeping the other for himself.

"Thank you." Lucius nodded and took a sip. "It's been awhile since I've had a butterbeer. …Or drinks out for that matter."He looked over to Harry, whose leg was trembling. He pursed his lips together. "Problem?"

"Er… I've never really had a date go well for me. I tend to screw them up. I'm a bit nervous."

"Nervous!" Lucius's voice rose up a notch. "You have been hounding me for _weeks_ and now you're nervous because we're on a date? Honestly, of all the things… Nervousness."He scoffed, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I can't help it! I don't want to screw this date up. You're finally giving me a chance in all..." Harry took a sip of his butterbeer and went to go put it down. However, he missed the table and the glass tumbled over and on to Lucius. "Oh Merlin- it begins!" He moaned and quickly ran to get a towel. "Lucius, I'm so sorry." He babbled and began to try and sop up the mess on Lucius's blue cloak.

"Harry-"

"I'm so sorry, I really am!" He moaned and started toweling off Lucius's thighs.

"HARRY!"

"…Wh…what? I'm trying to help."

"You've got your hands on my thighs. It's rather inappropriate when I can cast a drying charm." He held up his wand, going to cast the appropriate charm.

"Allow me, please." Harry quickly removed his wand. Instead of casting a drying charm, Lucius's robes caught fire. "Damn it! _Aguamenti_!" He shouted out and soaked Lucius with a jet of water. "Phew. That was close."

"Yes." Lucius said dryly as he peeled his sopping wet cloak from his body. "Close indeed." He frowned and rang it out. "I'm perplexed. Honestly so. You've managed to convince me to come out on this date… and now that it's happening, you've humiliated me." He glanced around at the bar patrons who were now all looking in their direction. Lucius kept his face a calm mask to hide how mortified he actually was. He swallowed slightly. "Goodnight, Harry."

"No! No, don't go." Harry reached out and caught his arm. "Please- just… just hold on, alright?"

"Everyone's looking!" Lucius hissed to him. "Let me go! This is a nightmare, I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this-" Before he could say anything else, Harry's lips were clamped down on his in a kiss. His grey eyes snapped open and he began to thrash against the younger man. He pulled away roughly and stumbled back, looking flushed.

Silence passed over the bar. For awhile, no patron said a single word. It was finally broken by a cheer from one of the bartenders.

"Woo! Way to go Potter!"

Harry reached out and took Lucius's hand, squeezing it. "Does anyone here care if I'm on a date with Lucius? Anyone offended?" The people blinked, shrugged, and turned away from them. Harry looked back at Lucius, who seemed to have calmed down quite a bit when no one seemed to care either way if he was there. "You see..? It's alright, Lucius. No one cares." He murmured. "We can enjoy ourselves now."

Lucius relaxed his shoulders a bit. He wanted to argue, but Harry was right. No one cared that he was here. "Okay. Fine. I suppose we can continue on our date. Just… keep your wand in your holster."

Harry blushed and nodded, returning to their seats by the fireplace. "I'll be good. I promise."

He sat back in his chair, and then winced. "Oh, the spilled butterbeer… I just sat in it." He quickly raised his hand to Harry in order to stop him, removing his own wand instead. "_I'll_ cast the drying charm."

(*)

The rest of the night went far smoother. The drinks remained in their glasses, food was ordered, and at one point, Lucius joined Harry in dancing to some of the music from the pub band. Harry was in heaven dancing with the older man. Lucius really could move, even with several butterbeers and a glass of fire whiskey in him.

A group of wizards who came into the bar after Harry made his admission of being on a date with Lucius, was intently watching Harry. They were murmuring quietly to each other, gesturing rudely at the couple as they moved together. After finishing up their dance, the older man excused himself to go freshen up leaving Harry to flop down on one of the chairs they sat in earlier.

"Oi, Potter!" One of the men walked over to Harry, scowling. "What gives, you sportin' around with a death eater like that?"

Harry cast his eyes up to the bigger man. He was older, with large, muscular arms covered in thick dark hair. Harry figured he would have wanted that hair on the top of his sparse head. "It's not exactly your business is it? It's my business." He frowned and stood up.

"Your life is our business, Potter. You saved this world from he-who-shall-not-be-named, but everyone makes mistakes. Is Malfoy bothering you? He's probably throwin' himself at you to gain some sorta status." He jeered looking back toward the men he came in with. "Listen, there ain't nothing good coming out of that sort, so I figured I'd come over and remind you."

Harry had to fight down a scowl. "I appreciate your concern. But I'm aware of what I'm doing. I'm aware of the decisions I'm making." He said slowly. The alcohol he had consumed was making it harder for him to act rationally. "I've been pursuing Lucius, not the other way around."

"An' why would you be doing a foolish thing like that? Dating a death eater-"

"He's not anymore." Harry interrupted and scowled. "I'm afraid this conversation is over. Thanks for your concern, but I'm an adult I can make my own decisions. I don't need a committee." Harry turned away from the other man, glancing toward the bathroom. He decided to go and escort Lucius out, rather than leaving him to be questioned by the newcomers.

When Lucius came out, Harry instantly wrapped an arm around him- directing the older man toward the bar. "What's the matter, tired of dancing?"

"I think we need a drink." He murmured and pulled him over to a spot by the wall at the end of the bar. He kept his arm around Lucius the whole time, ordering a few more fire whiskeys to try and wipe the incident from his mind. There was no way he was going to let some idiots undo all the effort he put in to helping Lucius get over his fear of coming out of his manor. The fire whiskey felt good as it traveled down his throat. "You know… being the boy who lived is hard."

"I can imagine so. You're everyone's darling… constantly living under scrutiny- your actions always monitored and judged…"Lucius reached out and put a hand on top of Harry's. "I imagine it's like being an ex death eater, only everyone wants to know what you're up to for positive reasons. …Why do you think I kept myself locked up? I couldn't take the accusing stares."

"I'm not going to let them ruin my life by trying to run it—and I've got news for you. They're not going to do it to you either."

Another hour or so passed- it could have been more but Lucius wasn't paying attention to things like time. "Well… Harry… I… I believe it's time to say goodnight. Despite the awful beginning… it was a good time." Lucius said as he looked to the clock. He was getting tired and the bar was winding down anyway. "I've reserved a room here tonight, so I believe I'll retire to it."

"Oh, you rented a room? C-Can I join? I've had a bit too much to drink, and I don't really want to attempt apparating home."

Lucius sighed as he looked Harry over. He wasn't lying; Harry had far too many shots of fire whiskey, all within the time they went up to the bar. Against his better judgment, he nodded and grabbed up the flowers Harry brought for him. The barkeep gave him a vase for them for the time being. "Fine. You may join me. …But you must keep your hands to yourself."

"Oh fine." Harry looked a bit crestfallen, he was hoping for something more than just sharing a place to sleep, but knew he shouldn't press his extraordinary luck. He followed Lucius up the stairs, staggering slightly over the top stair. "Urk… I shouldn't have had all those fire whiskeys."

"If you're looking for someone to disagree with you, Harry, it won't be me. I told you to stop after three." Lucius rolled his eyes and reached back to take the younger man by the wrist. "Try and pick up your feet or you'll catch your shoe on one of the many holes in the runner. …Honestly, one would think they'd replace this moth eaten thing." He toed the carpet a bit before fishing the key out from his pocket. Once they reached the door, he let them both in. Lucius sat down on the edge of the bed, removing his shoes. He started unbuttoning his shirt when he looked up to see Harry lingering in the door frame. "What's the matter?"

"Nothin'." He slurred. "You're just beautiful is all. …Gonna take off your shirt? Can I watch? What about your pants?"

"…Not anymore." He sighed and walked over to Harry. He took him by his arm, pulling him into the room. "Get in the room, git. Honestly- you trip me up with flattery and then you have the misfortune of reminding me that you're a… young man."

"I've never heard you say git before." Harry mumbled. He reached down to remove his belt, his fingers stumbling over the gold clasps. "I don't 'member this belt being so complicated when I put it on."

"I've got it." Lucius reached down and began to work Harry's belt off. Once it was free, he let it slide to the ground. "Need help with your shoes too, I assume." He clicked his tongue in annoyance, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Harry instantly sat next to him, close enough so that their legs touched. "How is this proximity going to aid in helping me get your shoes off…?"

"Oh, right." Harry laid down, his upper body half resting on Lucius's lap. He raised one leg up in the air. "Better?"

Lucius sighed and reached up to take the shoe off. He wacked Harry on the head with it, before letting it fall to the ground. "That's for being aggravating."

Harry raised his other leg, not minding one bit. "I like you. You don't let me get away with anythin'." He murmured and reached up to play with a spare tendril of the older man's blonde hair. "So beautiful. I could just stare at you and be happy."

Lucius hit him lightly with the other shoe. "Flattery is nice, but drunken flattery will get you nowhere- especially since I'm not that intoxicated myself." He pulled Harry from out of his lap and laid him down on the bed. He moved to the side in order to lie down.

"Lucius?" Harry asked as the older man turned off the lights with a brief flick of his wand.

"Yes Harry, what is it?"

"Do you like me? I mean… really like me. And be straight with me. Don't spare my feelins'."

Lucius blinked in surprise. In all honesty, he thought that's what he was doing this whole time. "I believe that's obvious. I wouldn't let you share my bed if I didn't."

Harry turned on his side, looking to Lucius. His voice wavered slightly when he finally spoke. "Say it then."

"Whatever for? You won't remember it."

"I will. Please. I need to hear you say it."

Lucius pressed his lips together. He looked long and hard at Harry before uttering a small sigh. "Very well- I like you, Harry. Happy?"

"Yes." Relief flooded his face and he reached out to Lucius, hugging him around the waist. However, he didn't let go, preferring to hold on to him. "Goodnight." There was a kiss placed to Lucius's neck, followed quickly by the soft sounds of snoring.

Lucius wanted to pull away, but found he couldn't. He liked the warmth coming from Harry. It was comforting- the warmth of another person was something he had lost when he and Narcissa began to go their separate ways. He found himself missing the gentle puffs of breath on the back of his neck when she curled up close to him in the middle of the night. He shut his eyes, letting sleep over take him as he forced his body to relax.

(*)

The night went almost without incident. Sometime around two in the morning, Lucius shifted against something hard poking him in the thighs. He made a face, groggy with sleep. "Harry." He grunted out, trying to push the younger man away from him. Harry however, kept his arms wrapped around him and his front pressed against Lucius's back. He was effectively trapped. He licked at his lips a bit as the hard fleshed continued to press against the back of his legs. "H-Harry!"

The younger man grunted out an odd sound and started rocking against him slowly. He clutched the front of Lucius's clothing, moving steadily against him. Lucius's eye lids fluttered slightly as he felt the hardened flesh sliding against his ass and thighs. He knew he should have felt mortified but the way it felt, pressing and rubbing against him left him momentarily paralyzed in shock. It felt good, to be desired like this. His cheeks flushed slightly as he found himself growing ever curious about what was rocking against him. From what he could tell, the length pressing against him was of decent size. He let out a stifled groan, feeling his body react. Slowly, he started to move against Harry's erection, feeling very little shame as the stiff flesh felt good as it glided over his clothed body. He let out a shudder as Harry's rocking grew firmer. He met his movements; moving hard against Harry's trapped erection at a pace the older man wished would slow down in order for him to savor it more.

It was over moments later as Harry's movements grew more frantic and then finally stilled to nothing. His face buried into Lucius's long hair, uttering a ragged sounding contented sound. Lucius scowled as he was still hard. He untangled himself from Harry and staggered toward the bathroom. He pulled open his shirt, undoing his pants as he went. He quietly locked the door, leaning up against the counter as he took care of his problem- his hand slowly stroking his hot flesh until his release splattered all over his abdomen. "Damn…" He murmured, raking his hand through his hair. Harry had done things to him before, but never worked him up to this point- not since seeing him naked in class. After cleaning himself off, he steeled his nerves and looked at the young man curled on his side. Harry had a hand out where Lucius was in bed, as if looking for him. Lucius pursed his lips together, heading over to the side table drawer where there was a bit of parchment and a quill. He dipped the end of the quill in the ink and began to write.

_Harry,_

_Had to leave unexpectedly. Last night was interesting. I expect you to be my date to the gallery unveiling at the ministry later this week. _

_L. _

Lucius gathered up his flowers and the rest of his clothing. He tacked the rolled up parchment to the younger man's forehead with a sticking charm, leaving Harry before he noticed that Lucius was gone.

(*CHAPTER END*)


	7. Chapter 7

Title: To Overcome  
>Pairing: Harry Potter x Lucius Malfoy, mentions of Draco Malfoy x Blaise Zabini, and some mentions of Narcissa Malfoy x Lucius Malfoy<br>Rated: M for various sexual themes  
>Summary: Lucius Malfoy finds himself at a crossroads a year after the war. He doesn't know who or what he is anymore, and unwanted attention from Harry Potter makes finding himself all the more difficult.<br>Disc: Not my men  
>Notes: A good chunk of this story is already written. It's gigantic so I thought it'd be best to carve it up into chapters.<p>

(*) Chapter 7 (*)

The next morning, Lucius was sitting at his desk as he went through the invoices for the apothecary. The flowers from the previous night were placed in an expensive vase he bought years ago for Narcissa. He sent the barkeep's back via owl package when he returned to the manor. The irony amused him, and the flowers were pleasant enough. His thoughts drifted to what happened with Harry the previous night. The night was going so well, until Harry decided to unintentionally remind Lucius that he was still an eighteen year old boy. He chewed idly on the end of his quill, wondering if he should be upset or not. Harry wasn't aware of what he was doing at the time after all, and it did feel good to be desired in such a way. Plus the sexual contact was yet another reminder that he still had a pulse and needs that hadn't died when he decided to lock himself away.

That, and Harry seemed to hold some promise in other areas. Enough to forgive what happened in favor of what may come. Lucius shook the thought from his mind, looking down at the inventory sheets he picked up from the apothecary. He took out his scroll and a fresh sheet of parchment and began to write his notes for the upcoming fiscal year when the door to his study flew open. "Ah. Draco. Good morning." He said glancing up at his son.

"Yes, father. Good morning." He cooed as the annoyance dripped off of him like beads of sweat. He tossed the Daily Prophet down on the desk. "When were you going to tell me?"

Lucius looked at the front page, which had a flashy title of "BOY WHO LIVED FOX TROTS WITH DEATH EATER". His eyes widened just a bit before he forced a look of compliancy on his face. "When is it a father's business to tell his son what he does every minute of the day?"

"When do you go out dancing with Potter?" Draco shot back.

"Who said I should be getting out more?"

Draco paused, raking his teeth across his bottom lip. This whole mess began with his insistence. "I… I didn't mean for you to go off and dance with Potter of all people. Why can't you go out dancing with Goyle's dad? Why does it _have_ to be Potter!"

Lucius instantly made a face at the mention of Goyle's father. "Please, Draco- Gracchus Goyle has two left feet and one is made of iron." He licked his lips tentatively before continuing. "And… it has to be Potter because I… I like him." He watched his son's face flicker with anger, and held up his hand to prevent him from speaking in between what he wanted to say. "Look at this paper." He held it up. "Has anyone else but Potter been around, looking to befriend me, looking to see if maybe I wouldn't mind going out on a date?"

Draco scowled at the paper before looking to Lucius. "But-"

"No buts. Answer the question."

"No… But what about mother?"

Lucius instantly flinched. "Draco- you know your mother and I are separated. I don't know how she'll feel, but I doubted she wondered the same about my thoughts when she started going about town with all sorts of suitors."

"I just… I… you know how I feel about him, father. Everybody loves Potter, and now you do too."

Lucius scowled back at him. "I distinctly said 'like', Draco. I know you don't like him. It is fine, I understand. I don't expect you to change your mind. However, I do expect you to extend a bit of tolerance towards this- even if you're hiding back a nasty bit of malice that wants to slip out _so _desperately. I know you've had issues with that particular aspect of our family, but now would be an excellent time to practice. We Malfoys are civil people in an uncivilized state. I expect you to hold up that motto, regardless of who I decide to date. I am beginning to realize that… that maybe I can go out in public without having to worry about being attacked. I have Potter to thank for that." He glanced at the paper he was holding again before setting it down on the desk. "Besides, the people at the Prophet are clearly mistaken. We were waltzing."

Draco took in a breath, sighing loudly. "Whatever, father- if you think Potter's fun to be around, than eventually he'll bore you. He's not that interesting, despite what everyone else seems to think. And if he hurts you, I'm going to take serious pleasure into hexing parts of him off until he's rendered a useless stub." He sniffed. "…I'm sorry I've been meddling. I just… you're getting better. You want to go out again, and I don't want you to backslide back into being stuck in the manor all the time."

"That won't happen, Draco." He murmured looking up to his son. "I know you're concerned about me, but I'll be fine. And the second I'm not, I'll let you hex off Potter's bits. But only if I'm there to see it."

Draco gave his father a small smile, which he returned. "What are you up to today, father?"

"I've got my painting class soon. And afterward, I might see if Kline would like to get a cup of tea… most likely coffee for him… at the café around the corner from the ministry. It couldn't hurt, he may end up putting my painting in a more prestigious place if I bribe him a bit. That, and I haven't been there in ages, and after last night, I'm thinking today might be a good day to return."

"Really now? I might get jealous, father- having tea without me at a café." Draco teased. "Have… have a good time."

"I will, thank you Draco." Lucius got up from his desk, and patted his shoulder. He grabbed up his field bag. "I'll be home later." He let the words tumble out of his mouth, still relishing in the simple observation that he made last night. Most people won't care if he decides to go out and enjoy a public place. He repeated it over and over, trying to cement the mantra in his mind for good. He trailed a hand over the oak paneling in the manor as he walked toward the front door of the manor, contemplating all that he missed out on.

(*)

Lucius adjusted himself on the stool in front of his easel. He rolled his shoulders, as if trying to physically remove the stares he felt on his person. He slowly looked around at nearly everyone as they crowded their easels around him. "Is… is there any reason why you've all decided to invade my personal space today?"

Millicent cleared her throat. "Is it true? Are you really seeing Harry Potter?"

Lucius blinked. "Is that why you're all crowding around me? I suppose if going out dancing once with a person constitutes as seeing someone, Miss Bulstrode, than yes." A ripple of commotion went through the people around him. His mind whirled as he attempted to think of a way to diffuse this potentially damaging situation. "…It's not that big of a deal you know. Harry can date who he wants. He just happens to have a passing interest in me. I think I must be some sort of rebellion, or attempt at finding some sort of excitement. …Why he finds me so exciting, I wish I knew. Hopefully, that answers all of your questions."

There were murmurs through the small group of people, hushed questions Lucius tried not to overhear before they slowly backed away from him in order to give him his space. By that time, Kline had come in with his usual cup of coffee and paint stained robes.

"Don't forget, your paintings for the ministry gallery exhibit are due by the middle of this week, should you want to put them in the show. I've had a few entered already. Use this time to work on your pieces, and if you've turned one in already, you may start on our next project- the landscape. Feel free to paint outside, if you want. The natural beauty of the outdoors has inspired many famous painters, after all."

Lucius was quick to gather his field bag and easel. Anything to get him out of the constant stares of his painting class and little murmurs he heard whispered behind his back of speculation on his and Harry's relationship was welcome. He felt stupid, cursing himself for not have considered the possibility that someone from the Prophet might be there last night. Few people might have minded Lucius stepping out to enjoy his life, but a great deal more were going to have qualms about an ex-death eater dating Harry Potter. He swallowed hard, hoping the fresh air would clear his mind.

A few others took the opportunity to paint outside as well; however they went in a different direction than Lucius- heading toward the park in the back of the building. There was a small gazebo not far from the center that would make a more private setting to paint in than the park, it was just a matter of getting there. Once he opened the doors to the community center, he was stunned by the sea of flash bulbs and shouts from every reporter from every wizarding newspaper in England.

"Lucius! Can we get an interview on your relationship with Harry Potter for the Weekly Word!"

"We need a clip for The Wizard's Mirror- preferably about where you think your relationship with the Boy Who Lived will go!"

"What do you think Harry's thoughts will be when he finds out about your scandalous 1971 Playwitch magazine spread!"

"Do you hope to be the man who married the boy hero!"

"What does your son think? What about your wife?"

"Where did you learn to fox trot?"

Lucius staggered backward, colliding against the door of the center. "We… we were waltzing." He said weakly. The reporters began to advance on him, invading every last inch of his personal space- all the while shouting questions and ridiculous rumors.

Down the street, Harry was round the corner, intent on surprising Lucius with a box of chocolates after his art class ended in order to alleviate any awkward feelings from the night before, and butter him up for some bad news. However, the huge mass of people on the front door of the community center caught him off guard. He reached into his side bag, pulling out his invisible cloak. He threw it over himself, creeping closer to the crowd to see what was going on. He heard the shouts and the accusations being thrown at Lucius, having to push and shove his way through all of them to even see him. The older man was looking rather frazzled and shocked as he slowly reached back to open the door. He paused for a moment, and suddenly scowled.

"Enough!" Lucius roared at them. "Leave me alone! Leave _Harry_ alone too! It is his life, if he chooses to date me, than fine! Maybe, just _maybe_ it's because I never, and won't ever, treat him like a god! Can't you for one second imagine what that's like? Holding up a person to impossible standards, scrutinizing their every move- maybe Harry's crazy for dating me, maybe he isn't. Maybe he doesn't want to date any of your tarted up relations because they bore him, adore him, and never bother getting to know the man behind the boy you've all loved for so long. You can't attempt to make a relationship with someone by only focusing on one part of them. Harry's a man now- he's quite different from what picture you've all painted of him in your mind. And I've had the argument with him countless times about the ills of dating me- he seems dead set for continuing our relationship. If you don't like it, fine- it isn't your relationship to judge." Lucius straightened up; fixing the collar of his robes that got mussed up in the reporter hoard. "It is mine, and Harry's. And as for that infamous Playwitch issue, every copy was destroyed." He sniffed and turned up his nose at all of them. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my painting class." He reached out again and grabbed the door handle, only to find that it had locked after he shut it. He tugged on it, making a slight face.

Harry removed his cloak, placing a hand on Lucius's shoulder. He ignored the surprised shouts and questions thrown at his person, focusing solely on what was important. "Don't you just wish you could disappear at times like this?" He held out the silvery cloth to the older man.

"Harry- how… how long were you standing there?" He hissed to him. "Oh never mind! Just throw that over us." He stuck close to Harry as the cloak was thrown over them both, making them vanish from the sights of the reporters.

(*)

They ran for blocks. They ran until Lucius begged Harry to stop and the collapsed on the park's grass. "And… and no one can see us?" Lucius panted as he went to remove his pointed-toe boots. He rubbed his sore feet, making a face at the pain.

"No one." Harry murmured as he watched Lucius try to soothe the pain in his feet.. "They can hear us though. …You alright?"

"Yes. But I won't ever be running in these boots again." He released the foot he was working on, looking back at Harry. "You never answered me. How long, Harry, were you standing there for?"

"Long enough." He murmured and sat up from his lounging position on the grass. He draped an arm over Lucius. "…I'm sorry for last night, if I er… did anything inappropriate. I can't blame you for leaving, I wouldn't want to face me in the morning after that if I er.. was you. I was having this amazing dream and…"

"No apologies necessary." Lucius cleared his throat. "I ah… was a young man once. And despite everything else you managed to do to me last night, I had a good enough time to forgive it. Just… don't bring it up. Ever. As for leaving, well- it's not proper to stay the whole night with someone on the first date anyway. You needed the sleep more than I did."

"You're so old fashioned. I'm glad you're not upset with me for well… getting fresh." Harry grinned sheepishly. "And here I bought apology chocolates for nothing."

Lucius snatched the package out of Harry's hand before it was barely out of the bag. "Chocolates are never a waste." He tucked them into his bag to have for later, casting a sideways look at Harry. "…Thanks for the rescue."

"You're welcome. …I'm so glad I overheard what you said." He leaned over to brush his lips over Lucius's neck. "I know what's happened between us isn't a perfect scenario, or probably how you'd like to be courted, but I don't care. I'm just happy you have the same hopes for us that I do. …Though, you may start treating me like a god when we get to… you know."

"…This coming from the guy who set me on fire last night while trying to do a simple drying charm. I'll remain skeptical, thank you very much." He wrinkled his nose at him.

"I love when you do that." Harry grinned. "You look… I don't know, real. When I first met you, I thought you only had a few expressions. Aloof, and pissed. I've learned you have a few more. Annoyed at me- Wrinkling your nose at me _in_ annoyance- Trying hard not to laugh at me in order to encourage my bad behavior... And my personal favorite- flushed when I try to seduce you and almost succeed." Harry watched Lucius, grinning wider as his cheeks began to pinken. "You're blushing. I like that one too."

Lucius looked sheepish. "Stop bringing attention to it."

"No, I like it." Harry said and moved over Lucius. The older man didn't seem to be in the mood for a tussle, but gave in and let Harry wrestle him to the ground. "Not in the mood to fight me today? I'm not used to you letting me get this far without an insult or forcing me to think out of the box."

"Maybe, just maybe… I want to be close to you at the moment. But don't push it."

Harry moved between Lucius's legs, laying on top of the older man as he drank in the moment. He put a hand on his cheek, smiling down at him. The blush was fading, replaced with an appraising look. Harry rested his chin in the middle of Lucius's chest, smiling when he felt Lucius's hand coast through his dark hair.

"You know... I always assumed Gryffindors needed a Slytherin. It did not occur to me that… sometimes, in very rare occasions, a Slytherin could… maybe… need a Gryffindor. But not all the time, of course." He sputtered and looked at the shit eating grin on Harry's face. "…What?"

"I like when you try to tell me how much you like me. But only rarely, and only on days that end in y."

"You're quite clever when you want to be, Harry. …A trait your father often lacked. Clearly, that comes from your mother."

Harry's face softened at the mention of his mother. He said nothing for quite awhile as he took in the sight of the man beneath him. His hand reached out and tangled in the sea of blonde hair splayed out on the grass. "All things considering… this is nice. This day could have wound up way worse."

"I just got done being harassed by a gang of reporters, Harry. Explain 'way worse'."

"I could have punched one of them. …And then you'd have to bail me out. Think about it for a moment though- you got harassed by a gang of reporters, and you're here with me, on the lawn of a park. You didn't head back home to hide like a turtle. I think you might be getting better faster than we both thought."

Lucius pressed his lips together, letting a sigh out of his nose before speaking. "Yes, I suppose."

"Now. Down to really important matters- what's this I hear about a Playwitch spread?"

"Absolutely nothing, Harry James Potter. You won't ever be seeing _that_ remnant of ancient history."

Harry pouted. "Honestly? Then what's going to keep me company when I go away on my auror trip? It's my first mission."

Lucius frowned and sat up. Harry moved off of him to accommodate his new position. "I forgot you would have to do that. Will you still be around for the ministry art show?"

"…That's what I was coming to talk to you about originally. I don't think I'll be able to escort you. My trip starts tomorrow. I won't be back in time. I'm really sorry, Lucius. I wanted to go with you. You aren't mad, are you? …That was the last box of chocolates Honeyduke's had that I thought you'd like and-"

"Mad? No. Disappointed? Yes." Lucius frowned and held up a hand to silence him. "You'd best return from this trip unscathed, Harry James Potter- or you'll never get to see anything that was in that damn magazine. And one box of chocolate is fine. I do not wish to get fat."

"Are you worried about me, Lucius? I think I can handle this pretty well. I've had some years of experience already under my belt. I don't mean to toot my own horn, or anything."

"…And that is why you don't need my magazine- you toot your own horn- so to speak- without meaning to." Lucius drawled out and raised an eye brow at him. "…Yes, of course I'm worried. I've grown to care a lot about you. You've done so much for me in helping me to come out of my self imposed exile. Let alone what you've done for my nonexistent love life. …It isn't too late to consider a career at Gringotts, you know."

"Nah. That's not my thing. I'll be fine, Lucius. And when I get back, I promise to make it up to you. …Will you come down to the ministry tomorrow? Ron and the rest of us are being sworn in as aurors before we go on our first mission. It'll be the last chance I get to see you before I go."

"Of course I will." Lucius's voice softened. "I wouldn't dream of missing it. Even though I think you could be perfectly happy with a career at Gringotts. …I promise to bring you lunch, wearing only boots and a cloak everyday if that's what it will take."

Harry's eyebrows shot up at the offer. "You're tempting me. You're very good at that, you know. But I'm not going to work with goblins." He reached out and put a hand on Lucius's cheek. "And I promise you, Lucius- I'll be fine. We haven't even gotten to the next level in our relationship. Do you think I'd let some dark witch or wizard end my life before that?"

Lucius snorted. "I suppose not. I should have known better."

"Yes you should, I'm surprised at you." Harry grinned. "Er… you're going to be alright while I'm gone, right? Think you can handle the reporter herd?"

"With merciless ease." Lucius cooed.

Harry chuckled a bit and then gave him a playful look. "…Well then, with that settled… do I get a going away goodbye romp in the grass?"

"Absolutely not, Harry. I abhor grass stains. We'll talk about it when you come back from your trip." Lucius sniffed. "You may have actually gotten just that if you were going to work at Gringotts, but no- someone has to be rather _stubborn_." Harry's laughter felt good to hear, and Lucius drank in it- saying nothing more as a slowly growing storm of unease crept over his person. Wordlessly he reached over and took Harry's hand, squeezing it tight.

(*CHAPTER END*)

EXCITING NEWS: This story is nearly done. Maybe 1-2 more chapters. Ahhh… nearing completion feels so good :D Thanks for sticking with me guys, I really appreciate the support from your reviews, alerts, and favorites 3


	8. Chapter 8

Title: To Overcome  
>Pairing: Harry Potter x Lucius Malfoy, mentions of Draco Malfoy x Blaise Zabini, and some mentions of Narcissa Malfoy x Lucius Malfoy<br>Rated: M for various sexual themes  
>Summary: Lucius Malfoy finds himself at a crossroads a year after the war. He doesn't know who or what he is anymore, and unwanted attention from Harry Potter makes finding himself all the more difficult.<br>Disc: Not my men  
>Notes: A good chunk of this story is already written. It's gigantic so I thought it'd be best to carve it up into chapters.<p>

(*) Chapter 8 (*)

Harry wanted him here, so there he was- looking as foul as he could at the thought of Harry going off on his first auror mission. What if they hadn't given Harry enough instruction? What if Harry didn't think fast enough? They never had a consistent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. He cast a sideways glance at Ron and Hermione as they came in. The girl stood beside him, watching Ron head over to where Harry stood.

Lucius ground his teeth as he stood there with the Granger girl as their respective partners were given their instructions on their trip. Being told yesterday about this wasn't nearly enough time to ready an appropriate expression of reluctant compliance, nor was it enough time for him to prepare to let Harry go without worrying. He had to remind himself constantly that Harry was an eighteen year old boy. Of course Harry wouldn't think to tell him sooner. Lucius crossed his arms over his chest, scowling slightly. "_Gringotts is a perfectly acceptable place to work_." He muttered to Hermione. "_Harry listens to you. You should tell him_."

Hermione shook her head. "_No, not about this. Ron's there- and when Ron's with Harry, my rational opinions usually get pushed aside_." She made a face, which Lucius quickly mirrored. "_I was hoping you would do the same with Harry for Ron, but if you couldn't convince Harry to change his mind… I didn't mind at first, we've done dangerous things for nearly all of our lives. But… not apart. I'm worried they won't last out there._"

"…_There's no amount of money you'll take to go with them, is there_?"

"_No. This is what they want. We'll have to accept it, chance of stupidity and reckless endangerment included_."

Lucius fidgeted slightly as he watched Harry raise his hand to take the oath of an auror. "_What about a sizable donation to that ridiculous house elf welfare charity you run_?"

Hermione faltered just slightly. For a moment she said nothing, as if seriously contemplating it. Finally, she shot Lucius a look. "_No_."

"_Damn_."

Hermione shook her head and turned to watch the ceremony with Lucius. When they were done, the newly minted aurors were allowed to say their goodbyes to any who had come to see them off. Ron was on her in an instant, and Harry walked over to Lucius, looking proud.

"Harry Potter, auror, at your service." He grinned to Lucius. The older man did not return the gesture. "Oh, come on Lucius- I'm not going to be returned to you in a matchstick box. It's a simple mission."

"Gringotts." Lucius said in nearly a whine, as a last ditch effort to sway him. He remembered himself and fixed a scowl on his face. "You'd best not, I'm all out of glue."

Harry laughed and wrapped his arms around Lucius's waist. The older man returned the gesture and put his arms around his shoulders. "Please don't worry." He murmured to him. "I'll be back soon. And then we'll pick up where we left off. Me chasing after your goods, you denying me- me sneaking in to catch a peek, you threatening me with wards. It'll be old hat, Lucius- I promise."

"I know." He murmured and slowly released Harry from his grip.

"Now, don't worry. Take the time to get to know some of my friends. I want us to have a full relationship and that means getting along with our inner circles. … Trying to get along with Draco might be harder than this mission, but I promise I'll give it my best shot when I get back. …Can I get a good luck kiss before I have to go? …After all, Ron and Hermione are starting to out lap us over there." Harry gestured with his shoulder to the young couple- Ron looked like he was mauling her- Hermione however, was being a good sport.

"I… well, of course, Harry." Lucius leaned over and kissed the younger man fully on the lips for what he intended to be a brief good bye kiss. Harry had other intentions, and instantly deepened the kiss. Lucius's hands went to his shoulders and clutched on to him. Since when did Potter's kisses make him go weak? He chalked it up to the emotion of the moment, and when they parted, Harry was beaming.

"The return kiss will be even better."

Lucius just nodded mutely, as Harry reached out and took his hand.

"Don't be a turtle. Have fun at the art gala. You _know_ I'll be thinking of you."

"Goodbye, Harry- good luck." Lucius rasped out as he felt Harry's fingers slide through his own. He watched the young man go with pursed lips. Ron soon joined him, leaving Lucius and Hermione behind. He glanced to her and cleared his throat. "Your hair's a mess."

"That's Ron for you." She mused and started straightening her hair. "Mr. Malfoy… Harry mentioned how important the ministry art gala is to you. I'm no Harry, but would you want to go with me? There's no reason for us both to go alone."

Lucius looked surprised. Apparently, one of Harry's best friends was extending the olive branch to him. He'd be a fool not to take it, especially since he wanted to continue seeing Harry and after hearing his younger love say they should get along with each other's friends. "Thank you, Miss Granger, I would be honored. I didn't fancy going alone, and Draco's going with Blaise. I'll meet you at the ministry then, at seven sharp."

(*)

The very next day, Lucius was on his way through Diagon Alley to buy a few new tubes of paint. He felt people staring at him, in heavier ways than normal. He frowned a bit, and adjusted his cloak, as if to get the sensation off of him. One particularly sharp wolf whistle directed at his person made his eyes snap open. He wrinkled his nose, wondering what the hell that was all about. He was wearing nothing remotely sexual.

When he passed by Florish & Blotts, he instantly knew. He stared at the big glass window advertising a special, limited edition re-release of his Playwitch magazine. He backed up a bit, reading the advertisement painted on the glass.

IN LIGHT OF THE BOY WHO CONQUERED'S NEW RELATIONSHIP THE NAUGHTY!MAGE MAGAZINE COMPANY HAS RE-RELEASED THE LEGENDARY PLAYWITCH MAGAZINE FEATURING EX-DEATH EATER LUCIUS MALFOY! GET YOUR COPY TODAY BEFORE THEY'RE GONE! *must be legal age to purchase.

All of his youthful indiscretions decided to come flooding back to him as he watched his younger self stripping out of his Head Boy uniform on the cover- the picture then gave him a cheeky expression that he immediately denied he was capable of ever making again. Another wolf whistle brought him back to earth as he whipped around to see the freckled face of a Weasley boy. "Oh no. I don't know which one of Arthur's many sons you are, but spare me whatever indecency you'd like to level upon my person."

"It's George! And don't worry, I won't. Can you autograph this though? I picked it up for Harry so he wouldn't miss out while he's away."

Lucius felt his face grow hot. "Absolutely not! You are not giving that… that… _thing_ to him. I'll never hear the end of it!"

"Well, that's the point- other than serving as good wanking material."

Lucius opened his mouth to say something else when a group of wizards approached them both. They all seemed to have a copy of his magazine, which made him pale slightly. His posture instantly went on the defensive. His fingers twitched, but there was a distinct numbers advantage with the other men. If George decided to help should this get messy, it would have been six on two.

"Well well- l have to say, Harry's got some good taste." One of them smirked.

"I don't know about that, this magazine's a bit old. Do old death eaters still look that good under all those robes? What do you say, Lucius- going to let us see? I think it would be a public service after all you've done."

"Right, we should make sure he's up to standards for Potter."

Lucius said nothing and looked mortified- taking a step away from them. He did not trust his own tongue to say something bitter that would have made situations worse. His fingers were very close to the holster where he now kept his wand, ready to reach for it should he need to. In his mind, he was praying for that not to happen. The press would have a field day at his expense- even though he was trying to protect himself. George thankfully seemed to notice his discomfort at their leering and took a step forward.

"Hey—that's enough." He frowned at them. "Leave im' alone."

"Really, Weasley? You of all people are going to stick up for a _death eater_?" The man who incited the incident stepped forward, bumping chests with the younger man.

"I'm sticking up for Harry's boyfriend." George said simply. "And I think you've said enough." He reached back and grabbed Lucius's arm. "Come on, Mr. Malfoy- let's go."

Lucius couldn't agree more. He turned on his heels sharply, ignoring the hoots and hollers from the group of men behind them. It went better than he originally thought- no hexes were fired, and no real damage was done to him other than increased humiliation. He shielded his face with the flat part of his hand, knowing well that his burning face was giving away how humiliated he was. After a block of walking, they were in the safety of George's joke shop.

"Can I get you something?" George asked as he made his way inside.

Lucius looked around at all the bright, colorful objects that sang, dance, told jokes- and even released odd odors. He batted at a flying dinosaur that seemed happy to hover around his head. "Ah…" He looked behind him at the door, longing for an exit away from the madness- but not one into a world that desired to harass him. "I…" If he left, he wouldn't be showing a proper level of commitment toward meeting and getting along with Harry's friends. Stuck didn't even begin to cover what he was. "Tea would be lovely."

"Right this way then!" George motioned for Lucius to come to the back. "We're in the middle of breeding pygmy puffs, so there's a bunch of them back here- just watch where you step."

Lucius suppressed a noise of disgust, and took a seat on an offered crate. "You could use some actual furniture here."

"Oh, I have an office, but right now it's filled with extendable ears."

"…I see." He folded his hands neatly in his lap. There were brightly colored pink and purple balls of fluff squeaking around his leather boots, laying on them or just alongside them. "Is this normal?"

"Sure thing!" George said as he fussed around with a tea pot. "They don't move too much. They're just saying hello. …So… tell me." His eyes flickered over to the Playwitch magazine. "Is this a Malfoy thing to do, pose in magazines- or was it a fluke thing?"

Lucius took in a deep sigh, graciously taking the offered cup of tea. "I... It was a youthful indiscretion. A moment of teenage rebellion that I thought was such a good idea at the time."

"So was Ron's pygmy puff tattoo." George snickered and sat down on a crate beside Lucius. It turned to straight out laughter at the wide-eyed man. "You're not the only one who did something stupid when they were a whelp. But hell, this really takes the cake." He took the magazine down from where he tossed it, holding it up for Lucius to see.

"I'm aware of that, George Weasley." Lucius said cooly. "…Put that away."

George sat the magazine back down. "I think you're thinking about this in the wrong way. You need to be more positive about this whole thing. You could turn this around to your favor, because I'm pretty sure this was done to humiliate you. Do it again! Do a new one, and donate the profits toward rebuilding Hogwarts."

"I will do _no such thing_! I can't pose for that trash again!" Lucius looked indignant. "I'm not a rebellious teenager any more, I'm an adult- attempting to rebuild his reputation-"

"Which is all the more reason to take a scandal and make it a positive thing." George grinned. "Come on, Lucius! At least think about it. Would you at least be a good sport and personalize this for Harry?"

Lucius finished up his cup of tea and looked at George- with his missing ear and big goofy grin. He was happy, moving on from the darkness that was all of their lives last year. He didn't hold any malice toward Lucius at all. He sighed softly and removed a quill from his cloak in order to scrawl a message across the front.

George flipped it around to read. "_H: All my love… L_. Very nice!"

"It was the least I could do."

(*) The Ministry Art Gala (*)

The art gala was finally upon him, and to say that there were no butterflies in his stomach was to tell a blatant lie. Draco was already there with Blaise, but he insisted on being fashionably late- what with being an artist and having a piece in the show, arriving on time would be passé.

"Far be it for a Malfoy to be on time." Hermione shook her head. "I'm not surprised."

"It's called being fashionably late, and I assure you it's essential." He offered his arm to Hermione, leading her up the steps to the ministry. Inside, it was packed to say the least. House elves walked around, offering flutes of expensive campaign which his date instantly scowled at. "The ministry elves are not mistreated." Lucius said with an amused look on his face. He took a glass from the tray, sipping out of it.

"I don't care, it's still wrong." She muttered, casting her eyes to the crowd. "Wow- this place is packed! I didn't think it would be this busy."

"People are trying to get back to normal." Lucius said with a shrug of a shoulder. "They're trying to move on- I suppose the art gala is a way to do that." The two of them began to walk around, looking at the different paintings- some were from professional artists, some were famous paintings- and the others were from Lucius's class. "This one is by the bald man who always wears plaid robes." Lucius gestured to the pastoral landscape. "He sits in front of me."

Hermione nodded and raised an eyebrow at his explanation. "It's nice but… does this mysterious bald artist have a name?"

"Most certainly. I just don't know it." He missed her rolling her eyes as they moved on to the next painting. Lucius's appraisals of his classmates were interesting, but not unkind. He only remembered one name that of Draco's old classmate Millicent, as she spilled gel medium on him once. A story he greatly exaggerated to Hermione in an attempt to get pity for his ruined robe and draw ire toward Millicent- old habits die hard.

"Mr. Malfoy, where's yours? I think we've seen everyone else's but yours."

Lucius faltered slightly at the thought. What would Hermione think if she saw it? Would she tell Harry? He frowned a bit, reminding himself that Harry was his original date, so he would find out anyway. "Ah, of course. Saving the best for last you see…" He took her arm and directed her over to his painting, standing in mild discomfort as he waited for her to figure it out.

Hermione's eyes went wide for a moment as she took in the sight of the seductive, powerful figure shrouded in darkness. The eyes stood out, staring right back at her defiantly. "…That's supposed to be Harry, isn't it?"

"Yes. …But don't say it so loudly."He hissed to her. "It's… it's a surprise of sorts."

Before Hermione could question why it was a surprise, Draco and Blaise made their ways over.

"Father! …And Granger." Draco gushed and gestured to his work. "I simply adore what you've painted. It's so sexual and raw. I didn't know you could… ah… paint like that. I think I'm going to purchase it! I have the perfect spot in my study where I'd like it to hang."

Hermione had to feign taking a sip out of her glass in order to avoid cracking a telling smile.

"Ah—Are you sure that's wise? It might be too inappropriate for a study, Draco." Lucius said in a mildly strained voice. He glanced to his date who was taking quite a long drink.

"Yeah Draco. It's not _that_ raw or sexual, but it's still inappropriate." Blaise muttered. He gave Lucius a look, upset at the painter for creating something that attractive, and at himself for being jealous of a painting. "We can find something that won't be as inappropriate."

Lucius cleared his throat. "Thank you for the interest in my painting, Draco- oh, it appears that my date needs her drink refreshed. Miss Granger?" He offered her his arm.

Wordlessly, as she did not trust any syllable to come forth that wouldn't cause her to giggle, she took his arm. The pair walked off further into the gala, to enjoy the rest of the evening.

(*)

Lucius and Hermione were sitting on the back stairs of the ministry, splitting a bottle of wine they nicked from the table when no one was looking. He reached over with the bottle and refilled their glasses. "Quite an interesting night." He drawled out. "Civility reigned supreme, I'd say."

"Not a single thing was thrown at your person." Hermione added as she took a drink.

"No, not at all! Nor did they chase me out with pitchforks, or question me about that bloody Playwitch magazine. It has been a very choice evening." It was almost like the ones he used to have before the second war. The nostalgia pricked at his heart, which made him rub at the front of his robes a bit. "Thank you for being my date."

"I had a lovely time, Mr. Malfoy. And besides, I was missing Ron. I wanted to do something to keep my mind off of it. What about you, how've you been fairing?"

"About as well as you can imagine." Lucius mumbled sarcastically and sipped out of his glass. "Thankfully luck is on my side. There have been many distractions this past week thanks to youthful indiscretions coming back to haunt me."

"Oh yes, I saw the sign at Florish & Blotts. And the one you signed for Harry that George has."

Lucius sighed heavily, rolling his shoulders as if to shrug off the mistake he made as he looked down at the wine glass."You know, my father was so angry with me for that. He went and had every copy destroyed, and punched the photographer in the face so this wouldn't happen. I thought he was being cruel and unappreciative of my celebration of adulthood. But as I grow older, I now see that he wasn't being cruel at all. He was trying to stop this mess from happening. So much of what we think our parents do that is awful really isn't. It just takes time to realize it."

"…Your father punched a photographer in the face?"

"Yes. I had to bail him out of jail." Lucius said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "At the time I was mortified, now it's amusing."

Before Hermione could appropriately respond, the back door opened. Both of them turned to look upward at Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Minister! Come join our private party." Lucius drawled out as he held up the bottle. "We have this wine, which really isn't very good, but it is doing the trick."

"No thank you."

The words were solemn and deep. Hermione looked up at him and frowned. She reached over and put a hand on Lucius's arm.

"Oh come now, I don't bite. Not anymore. I assure you I'm harmless, if not a bit spirited. I've forgotten how good the taste of wine can be. Maybe when Harry returns, we will go on a wine tasting tour." He held up the glass of wine, grinning at it before setting it down in favor of analyzing the label with some scrutiny before glancing up to Kingsley again.

Kingsley took a deep breath as he looked at them both. Lucius's naked optimism and slightly intoxicated look coupled with Hermione's prepared grim expression unnerved him slightly. "I'm afraid I'm coming to you both with some bad news. It's about Harry."

Everything seemed to slow down as Kingsley uttered those words. He wavered unsteadily, and was thankful to be sitting down. The words repeated in his mind as he took in the expression on the minister's face. Weakness gripped him as the bottle slid from Lucius's hand, from his fingers and out of his hand completely before shattering on the stone steps they were sitting on.

TO BE CONCLUDED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!


End file.
